So, it's that time of year again. Those of you who know me know today is my least favorite day of the year. They know it from this post and this one too. Yes, it's Groundhog Day, and the little bastard Phil already lied through his teeth yet again. He claims there'll be an early spring. Who does he think he's phooling? It'll take six weeks just to melt the snow that got dumped on my town last night.
Phil--may his tiny evil skull be crushed by the weight of the snow collapsing his burrow in Punxatawney.
*pant, pant, pant*
I hate the little SOB, but I'm not going to go on and on like I normally do. Instead, I'll write one groundhog haiku, then shovel off my porch and sit there with my 12 gauge, waiting for another one of those little bastard groundhogs to show his face. If you want to play along, post your own groundhog haiku in the comment section. Or, if you'd prefer, a limerick would be just ducky too.
Isn't it about time you
Kill that bastard, Phil?
Okay, let's see yours.
Go for it.