It has been quite wintery this week here in Boston, and with each passing day it’s starting to look as if that con artist known as Punxsutawney Phil lied to all of us about an early spring

I gotta say that walking out my front door every morning and being greeted by a chilly 10 degree punch to the face is starting to get real old. However, I will admit that nearly getting frostbite every morning does a way better job of waking me up than any amount of coffee or cocaine ever could, so I guess there’s that

Walking to work in the freezing wind a few days ago was one of the more miserable winter experiences I can remember in recent memory. Those arctic gusts were so powerful it felt as if I was gonna get swept up and carried away to the magical land of Oz, which in retrospect wouldn’t have been that bad because I would have gotten to miss work. Plus, Dorothy is a total smoke show and I would have loved to try my luck flirting with her. I know that she’s a fictional character in a movie that came out in 1939 so she would probably be old or dead by now, in which case I would just try to bang Glinda The Good Witch Of The South instead because her magic powers probably prevent her from aging. Or do you even age in Oz? I don’t know, but that’s not the point

My point is that winter needs to end immediately because I’ve already begun fantasizing about the warm weather and activities that spring and summer will bring. Sunlight. Day drinking. Sweating my balls off. Honestly, I can’t fucking wait

I thought we were done with winter and those things I mentioned in the last paragraph weren’t far away, but then today happened. We got a ton of snow because apparently Mother Nature is more of a relentless bitch than my elementary school nun Sister Phyllis, who I should add used to hit us with a ruler if we didn’t do our homework

On second thought, I don’t even blame Mother Nature for all of this because she’s just doing what she’s been doing for millenniums. The person that I do blame for this snow and the false hope of an early spring is an asshole from Pennsylvania named Punxsutawney Phil

If you don’t know who Punxsutawney Phil is, consider yourself lucky. Above this paragraph I’ve included a picture of that aforementioned arrogant prima donna, and my blood is boiling just looking at that smug expression on his face

I don’t mean the guy on the left, by the way, who is for some reason dressed like he owns a textile mill and is about to board the Titanic. I’m talking about the pompous asshole that this guy is holding in the air like he’s an Academy Award at the end of a longwinded acceptance speech

THAT is Punxsutawney Phil, and I’ve had beef with him years now. The snowy commute this morning was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and I can’t sit back passively any longer while this stupid rodent remains famous and annually celebrated despite being God awful at his one and only job

All this asshole has to do is peak out of his hole and look for his shadow in order to supposedly predict if there will be an early spring or not, and year after year he’s wrong. I mean Jesus Christ man, have a little pride in your work (I ironically say while lounged back at my desk, avoiding my own work responsibilities, and writing a stupid blog about groundhogs)

Everybody else might keep giving Punxsutawney Phil a free pass, but not me. I don’t have the stats in front of me at the moment, but I’d bet my soul that his batting average has been .000 for years now. He’s as washed up as a dead whale on the beach, and if he had any sense of humility, he would admit his career is over and step away from the game immediately

Seriously, when was the last time this coward didn’t completely swing and miss with his spring prediction? Trick question, because he’s been consistently swinging and missing worse than Manny Machado at the end of the last World Series since this stupid tradition started back in 1886.

Some of you might be thinking to yourself, “Well Chuck, Wikipedia says groundhogs only live on average for 6 years. Are you seriously suggesting this has been the same groundhog the whole time, and he is now 133 years old?”

Yes, smart ass, that’s exactly what I’m saying. First of all, didn’t your teachers ever teach you not to trust Wikipedia? Obviously this has been the same groundhog this whole time, and he clearly has some type of magical powers that have allowed him to exist (Much to my dismay) for over a century

And even if it somehow hasn’t been the same Punxutawney Phil the whole time (It has, trust me), then fuck his entire ancestral bloodline. That embarrassment of a family tree couldn’t predict when spring is coming if their lives depended on it

Kurt Cobain famously said in his suicide note the Neil Young lyric, “It’s better to burn out than to fade away”. So please do us all a favor Phil, and make out with a shotgun barrel just like Cobain did (Allegedly). Looking at you, Courtney Love (Although I rather wouldn’t)

So do I think I could do a better job than Punxsutawney Phil when it comes to predicting when spring will come by using my own shadow? Yes, I do. I’d be like Nostradamus when it comes to that shit, and if that has-been named Phil has a problem with that, I wouldn’t even hesitate to square up with that midget of a mammal. Take a look at the food chain Phillip, and stay in your fucking lane before I take a little road trip to PA and smack the taste out of your mouth with so much force it makes PETA have a heart attack

If you want a job done right, sometimes you have to do it yourself. Don’t be surprised if you see me emerging from a hole and looking for my shadow come Groundhog Day next January. Yeah it’s tough work, but somebody has to do it and do it properly, and it sure as shit won’t be that Pennsylvanian coward named Phil

You’re welcome everybody, and please, for the love of God, can spring pick up the pace and get here already? Thanks in advance

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