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Thursday, 12 January 2017

In which they simply don't know if it'll snow...

What the feck is going on with those ridiculous, sillington-billingtons who read out the weather forecast?

In particular, one rejoicing in the unlikely monika of Shagger Knacker, or something remarkably simliar...

Waving his fat little arms about like a demented windmill, he's been 'forecasting' that there might be some snow.

HELLO      IT'S JANUARY!

And! There may, or may not be, ice/rain/sleet/fog, or, there might not.

The understated, elegant ladies who forecast the West Country weather on TV haven't fallen foul of the SK effect, however, and remain delightfully vague about the whole thing.

This morning the silly sausages at the BBC were broadcasting from parts various of the country where there had been a slight flurry of snow, and were 'bigging up their parts' for all they were worth.

So, to briefly summarise: It may snow, it may not.

After all, even the most ghastly of destinations visually benefits from a covering of forgiving snow. So, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...

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