Mr Blizzard

Collaboration with Marcello Eans Take that, you silly people; rain, sleet, wind, and snow. Two to three feet, knee high, thirty below. Funny creatures with warm blood can’t handle the cold. Three years, fifteen, even forty years old. What do you do; stay shut in, run, bundle up, or pout? C’mon you wimps, put on your coats; I’m callin’ you out. It’s only water, partially frozen; what’s there to fear: You’d come out in shorts and t-shirts if it was ice cold beer. Called my friend, Mr. Spring; told him, “Stay on vacation. Mr. Winter’s clockin’ in, so relax and be patient.” Ms. Summer’s got no desire to even get out of bed. Fall would rather stay in his room and play instead. However, Ms. Summer’s so stubborn, she’ll be up by noon. Mr. Spring won’t come back, so she’ll be here soon. So, now you people see clearly that you’re not in control. I’ll get you next year, but, for now, it’s home to the North Pole.