Horsehockey!

Wisdom that I have gained from my endless hours in front of the American God (TV) is correct date placement. How you ask? From the veritable sherpa of soldiers Col. Sherman Potter from the later years of M*A*S*H. This brilliant cowhand had arranged to get married on a date that was a known holiday and so would be thus reminded of it by the media (and I still curse them – don’t think I’ve let those cretins off so easily). And what holiday would that be? None other than the dearest to my Brotherman’s heart – Groundhog Day. February the second, a day of true American idiocy, and yet one more reason in the Babel Tower of instances of why the world laughs at us.
So chances are you, gentle reader, are reading this pixilated script while in the shadow of Lady Liberty. Enjoy our day of phantasmal weather prediction in pagan ecstasy! Go on out and stock up on MD 20/20 in all your favorite flavors to not only consume yourself but share with your mirth-filled neighbors and friends! Toss a few back for ‘ol Phil, who has to put up with all of Punxsutawney’s slack-jawed yokels and screaming city folk.
If you do it right – you’ll be able to enjoy this all again with the Groundhog Hangover on February the Third.