Incompetent Meteorologists

On the list of things you want your kid to acheive in his life, "working at the dump" is probably slightly higher than "becoming a Judy Garland impersonator."

We do not get a huge pile of respect here at the ash heap of civilization. Nor do we expect respect. We are contemptuous of respect, to tell you the truth.

Our jobs consist of tasks that many illegal immigrants would refuse to do. Sweeping up. Hauling rubbish. Sorting cardboard. Hiding cadavers. Trucking refuse. Recycling batteries. Cleansing metaphors.

But today I came in early because of the big storm. I wanted to get my snowplow crew set up so we could knock down the snow early. The forecast was up tp 12 inches in the Boston area. I activated the notification transponder. This sent a signal to the drivers to come in early and report for duty. Throughout the metro area, beepers were going off, waking up the slumbering plowers of snow.

Then the phone calls started coming. Nearly all the dumpfucks were calling in sick. George was feeling "croupy". Bill refused to come in to work if anyone else was sick. Rajeed was recovering from his vasectomy. Lonny's anal warts were acting up. And Melvin had died during the night - choking on a ham sandwich, according to his mother. Only Lardass, that faithful, noisome piece of work came in on time.
"Hey Chief!" he greeted me when he arrived. I was never more happy to see him. "I heard on the radio that the storm was cancelled."
"Huh?"
"Yeah, it went out to sea. We're getting a dusting. Where do you want me to start?"
Management shows it's mettle during these types of crises.
"Get that shithouse cleaned up, LA. It's an ungodly mess."