An Open Letter to Weather.com

Dear Weather.com: I have some concerns about your website that I wanted to share with you. I've included them in this letter, along with exemplary pictures, for your convenience. Please don't take this the wrong way- consider it constructive, loving criticism from a friend.


First, I'd like to address your handling of the newest threat from our seas, tropical storm Ophelia. 

I can tell you're stressing, weather.com. You've probably got some pretty fabulous banner ads in the making, getting ready to prepare us for the storm with your classic combination of hyperbole and hysteria.  But- and I know how hard this is for you- try not to get too excited this time. Ophelia will probably drown herself before anything terrible happens.*


I also wanted to point out an error in an advertisement I saw on your site. I think someone got the copy wrong. Don't worry- I corrected it for you!

Finally, I'd like to turn to one of your news stories.

Nice job on the green screen!

Let's look a bit closer at this story's headline:

I hate to be so critical, but to this I can have only one reaction: DURRRRRRRRP!


What, exactly, is the speed of thought, Weather.com? How did you measure it? How, for that matter, are you measuring the melting of the arctic ice? It must be melting pretty quickly to go faster than thought. Say I've had 5 thoughts (scientifically abbreviated to th) during the last 10 seconds. That's a 5th/10s ratio, or 1th/s. The rate of the arctic ice melting is about 1 cm per year, or a 1cm/3,556,926s ratio.** Obviously thoughts move much, much much faster than the speed of melting ice in the arctic circle. My scientific conclusion?  Either I'm a genius, or- and I hate to break it to you, Weather.com, since we're such good friends- you may be retarded.


I think the answer to that question is clear.  


I dearly hope this letter hasn't ruined our friendship. I'm afraid that there's a chance I've lost your good opinion, but though it hurts, I'll move on. Luckily, my good opinion of you was lost a long time ago!


Sincerely,


BraveWorldGirl.












*Please tell me you get this joke.
**Statistics and equations brought to you by the Harold Camping Society for Better Math.

The Most Dangerous Game

The most dangerous game is not man. It's something far more insidious.

Second only to pretentious literary references.

"But that's clearly a picture of a deer," you might be thinking.

And you clearly don't understand the danger you're in.

These fluffy tailed little bastards have been raised upon the Disney altar and worshipped as gods from the cutsie-wootsie animal pantheon. Deer, in large part thanks to Bambi, bring to mind innocence and joy. However, like most of the things you believed as a child, this is a lie.

Hate to break it to you.

What we don't realize when we tell our kids that deer are sweet and innocent is that by doing so we create victims out of our children. Victims- of suicide terrorists.

DOWN WITH AMERICA!

That's a picture of the fauna extremist that is going to jump in front of your car and cause you to crash. Like most extremists, deer don't care if they live or die. They only want to take you with them. Ambushing you in the dark is their weapon of choice.

These jihadist little bastards also have much better cover than your average terrorist. At the very least we're paranoid enough about the modern terrorist to have free titty shows body scans at airports and intimidating Homeland security everywhere they can make commuting inconvenient. 

Deer, on the other hand? You can't spot a terrorist if you've trained an entire generation to find them cute. Imagine if that had been Osama Bin Laden instead of Bambi. If you'd grown up with a stuffed animal of ol' Osama and watched him frolic around with adorable woodland creatures you might have had a harder time believing him capable of atrocities (on a side note, this is just more evidence to support the 'terrorists are dumb as shit' theory. Poor marketing choice, Osama. We're going to blow you up now).

Deer are excellent terrorists precisely because you would never suspect them. They draw sympathy during hunting season from idiots who don't realize that our greatest enemy is breeding unchecked in our very backyards. And though we would never let our children touch one in the wild, we do keep them in zoos for our kids to pet. They are petting terrorists. 

This is America. We don't negotiate.

This is a public service announcement. People, warn your children of the danger of deer. Combat the deadly ignorance of the next generation by explaining exactly why Bambi's mother got shot. Hint: it's not because of hunting season.