Today in F-You Nature: Wind
There are so many things about the wind that I hate that I actually had to make a list so I wouldn’t forget that I hated them. The wind…*puts on sunglasses, slowly*…blows. *Cue CSI theme music*. It’s never there when you need it, which is why everyone in America owns at least 1 fan, and it’s always there when it’s not wanted. See every tornado, hurricane, tsunami, or sandstorm in the history of time. Growing up in Tucson, there is probably 5 months out of every year that the wind isn’t terrible, and even then it’s still not pleasant. It starts getting hot in Tucson in late February and continues being hot until the end of September. Hot wind blowing in your face is basically the equivalent of staring directly into the toaster while it’s on. Your eyes start to shrivel like sun-dried tomatoes and you immediately get thirstier than one of those camel riding fuckers in the Sahara. Also, bad things always happened to me when the wind was blowing hard in Tucson. When I was younger I had some pretty majestic hair. It was all Jonathan Taylor Thomas minus the highlights. THE LADIES SWOONED FOR IT. But seriously, it was some good hair. The problem with having the majestic locks of a Bronze Lion-God JTT in Tucson is that my head always got really fucking hot, and when the wind blew, for some goddamn terrible reason, bees would get thrown off of their flight path and get tangled in my it. Bees. Apparently bees think that they need to sting something when they’re stuck in hair, which is bullshit because I wasn’t happy about them being there in the first place. Stupid assholes. So I’m blaming the wind for bee stings, too. In Tucson dust devils are also frequent. If you don’t know what a dust devil is, it’s basically a 2-foot tall tornado that lasts all of 13 seconds, and they seem really awesome until they pelt your car with gravel, or fling a broken piece of cactus into the back of your leg like a fucking blowdart.
Wind is also the reason why some pretty shitty forms of math exist. There is a different equation to figure out wind speed, wind chill, wind energy power, wind vector, wind drag, thermal wind, wind speed rating for fucking tents, etc. I could go on, but just thinking about all the possible ways for me to fail numerically pisses me off.
Yeah, that’s real. I don’t even have any idea what that shit means or who the stupid asshole that came up with that is, but it just looks terrible. As a matter of fact, I don’t think I can even pronounce half of the characters in that equation. Vermont equals something multiplied by some fucked up pyramid and a couple Downs Syndrome looking zeros. It pisses me off to think that our badass troops in the American military have to figure out equations to battle the wind while they’re shooting Al-Qaedas and shit, but they always get the job done, that bitch Nature can’t stop them.
Finally, when I was a kid, I used to play a video game called “Final Fantasy 3”. That shit was badass, except for 2 things: 1) Some of your enemies were only weak against wind, which is bullshit because what the fuck does that even mean, and 2) The only fucking wind-spell that I have is fucking “Tornado”, which kills my own guys! Fuck. Whatever, at least I have Sabin, that motherfucker MAKES WIND HAPPEN WITH HIS KILL-FISTS OF AWESOMENESS.
Fuck you, nature.