The cedar bush gives up

Quite frankly, I understand how it feels. It's whiter than a Republican convention out there, and just like a Republican convention, I couldn't feel more uncomfortable.

It's not that I dislike snow per se, unlike Republican conventions, it's that I dislike so much snow. This late in the year. Not so long ago I was complaining there hadn't been any snow. Now I'm complaining there is too much snow. I am turning into Pierre Poils-aux-Lèvres, the archetypal whiny frat boy you'd all like to slap.

I can only apologise.