On The Psychological Effects of Snow Amongst Southerners

Look at me, look at me. Look at me. Would you? Would you believe that snowflakes are among the most dangerous naturally occurring phenomena this side of the Mason-Dixon line? That frozen water -- a necessary component in such Southern staples as sweet tea and Type 2 Diabetes -- is responsible for more deaths than cotton balls and corduroy pants combined? It’s the honest truth, friends. Last year, cotton balls and corduroy pants accounted for almost 2 fatalities when Carl Kittering, the corduroy-clad Cotton Ball Company employee, consumed too much caffeine, causing an acute fire as his chaps combusted. Several onlookers also suffered severe alliteration intoxication.

He deserved it for wearing corduroy, though. 

Judging by the bread section at the local supermarkets, I predict that this winter storm will be responsible for nearly 15,000 deaths. Not human, of course, that would be preposterous. Innocent sandwiches, however, will needlessly suffer disgraceful deaths at the hands of people who apparently believe that 1-5 inches of snow constitutes a State of Emergency. These barbarians, having bought up loaves upon loaves of white, wheat, pumpernickel, and brave rye breads, will likely toast the spoils of paranoia in the warmth of a perfectly-illuminated kitchen. That is not what these breads were trained for. These breads were specifically crafted to be palatable for lonely children, disgruntled employees, and woebegone hikers in their times of need. The wanton use of processed bread during hours of merriment and school closings is a disgrace to the callousness and mechanization that goes into producing them, and should be eliminated posthaste. We should be disgusted by our gluttony and avarice.

What we see here is the result of the innate savagery of short people.

Aside from the decimation of our doughy comrades, frozen precipitation seems to bring out a unique type of stupefaction in many southerners. Regardless of the situation, you will catch many a redneck staring intently out the window during a snowstorm or even staring up at the sky outside, slowly accumulating little snowballs in their gaping maws. It’s really quite majestic.

Cletus and his father Bubba also have turkeys. It is unclear as to who is raising whom.

Nevertheless, a very real danger presents itself when southerners attempt to drive in these conditions. The lack of focus is exemplified behind the wheel, as we are not only are distracted by the snowflakes, but also believe our untimely demise at the hands of Old Man Winter can only be prevented by driving slowly and liberally slamming brakes. Common wisdom will tell us that this is actually the opposite of what you should do (driving breaks and liberally slamming slowly are much safer), but we suffer from guilt. For after witnessing our vicious breadlust at the Battle of Pepperidge Farm, we’ve grown cautious and preoccupied. Despite this, we will drive on into that good night, staring intently at the snow, blissfully unaware that we’re operating a 2-ton death trap on icy roads. You might say we’re too dumb to drive in snow, but I say “Look at all the good we did for the baking industry.”

But seriously, you alarmist bastards bought the last loaf of honey wheat, and some of us are still expected to function when temperatures are below freezing. Cut it out, the snow is gonna melt in 24 hours anyway.

Notes:

1.     Out of work early and probably going in late tomorrow! I love you, Cold Front.

2.     You’d better believe I’m going to destroy some neighborhood kids tomorrow in a snowball fight if I can. And yes, I am a newly employed adult.

3.     On the other hand, this will probably make for a busy couple of days in the office. Pity your insurance adjusters.

4.     I actually love the snow and get pretty excited about it. Not buy-out-the-supermarket excited, but I will stare at it intently.

5.     And maybe whisper sweet nothings in its earflakes.