So apparently today is something of a special occasion in many places, known as "GroundHog's Day". The holiday in which a rather perplexed rodent is plucked from his home so that he may reveal to the public his apparent weather forecast for the next couple of weeks.
Now call me old-fashioned, but I do believe this tradition to be extremely bizarre on many different levels. For one thing, why a groundhog specifically? I don't recall any biblical passages or scientific discoveries revealing that groundhogs are more gifted at predicting the weather than say, Gophers.
Not to mention the fact that the groundhog itself doesn't seem too fond of the tradition itself. I mean, why on earth would he? Imagine waking up one morning in your nice comfy bed. You slowly get up and begin pouring yourself a nice cup of morning tea, when suddenly you find yourself snatched up by a pudgy mustached giant, and are subjected to the sudden, blinding glare of the sun as you try to come to terms with what's happening. You avert your eyes away from the sun in response and find your eyes lingering towards the only comforting sight amongst the crowds of mesmerized giants: your shadow.
Suddenly the moment you find yourself peering at it, the fat giant picks you up again and blurts out something about six more weeks of winter to a booing crowd, before finally shoving you back in your home again like nothing ever happened. Not exactly the best way to start out your day is it?
Having said all that, I must say that even I am humbled by a creature that can sustain such bizarre treatment once every year, and thus I declare "Punxsutawney Phil" the manliest rodent of the century. I tip my hat to you Phil, and may you continue your morning peacefully.
Cheers!
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