Just a little drive-by posting on this fine holiday weekend, in which it is duly noted that golf-course gangsta and meteorology professor Fuckface von Clownstick has some smackdown for the [finger quotes] "scientists"out there:
Aha, I see what he did there, right? Subverting many tricksy cultural tropes by merely flicking the icicles off his combforward. Not only do the "scientists" not know what the hell they're talking about, but they have the power to influence the weather just by changing their minds about the empirical data they're analyzing! Awesome.
Even more awesome is the response von Clownstick's harrumphing gets from his idolizing flock:
Now, it is technically possible -- though rare -- for snow to occur when the temperature is in the 40s. And it's not like it can stick to anything. Hell, it sprinkled here this morning in NorCal, and is probably in the mid-60s, unseasonably cool.
But it will be a long, hot summer nonetheless, and nothing you, me, von Clownstick, or the so-called [rolling eyes] "schmientists" say can change that. Climate change is a lot like gravity, in that it doesn't really matter whether you "believe" in it or not. Fortunately, vC and his heirs will be secure from the eventual coastal flooding, safely ensconced on the 62nd floor of von Clownstick Towers, high above teh poorz. So there's that.
But it's hilarious to see that von Clownstick's fan base, whatever it happens to be, is sleeping on the job today, leaving poor vC to be ritually abused by ankle-biting enviros. Fortunately, Mr. Doo-Wop (yeah, I said it, Mister Fucking Doo-Wop) is there to help a brutha out:
The only thing better than a rented dogsbody is one that will happily shovel your shit for free.
Even more awesome is the response von Clownstick's harrumphing gets from his idolizing flock:
But it will be a long, hot summer nonetheless, and nothing you, me, von Clownstick, or the so-called [rolling eyes] "schmientists" say can change that. Climate change is a lot like gravity, in that it doesn't really matter whether you "believe" in it or not. Fortunately, vC and his heirs will be secure from the eventual coastal flooding, safely ensconced on the 62nd floor of von Clownstick Towers, high above teh poorz. So there's that.
But it's hilarious to see that von Clownstick's fan base, whatever it happens to be, is sleeping on the job today, leaving poor vC to be ritually abused by ankle-biting enviros. Fortunately, Mr. Doo-Wop (yeah, I said it, Mister Fucking Doo-Wop) is there to help a brutha out:
Ha!
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