It's quite possible that I have overused this format to complain about you cleverly. I never intended to write three letters about you. However, I think this gives me an opportunity to complain about how much you suck and update everyone about my trip at the same time.
At first, I thought that I might have won. I didn't go up Thursday in fear that you would be there. You had forced me to postpone my trip. Friday, I thought I had gotten through to you. When I arrived to the camp site, it wasn't half bad. A little windy, slightly chilly but bearable. I had time to set up my tent and help my family set up camp. You rained and hailed briefly but stopped. You had me believing that victory was at hand.
Saturday was another glorious day that lacked your presence. Cloudy, a little windy with the occasional rain shower wasn't bad. I can handle all that. I got to hit the four-wheeler a couple of times, got to shoot my guns and enjoy the outdoors. I figured my previous letters threatening hot litigation had worked. Your team of lawyers crumbled and allowed you brief storms in my area, while the rest of the state got hammered with your nonsense.
Sunday was a disappointment. The secret must have gotten out that I'm too lazy (or too broke) to take you to court. It was then that you unleashed the full fury of your potential. The bone chilling hollowness of your existence was made clear when you snowed a couple of inches on my camp ALL DAMN DAY LONG! As a result, paintball was missed, four-wheeling could not happen, no additional firearms were shot, no hikes that I had planned were taken, and it was too cold to enjoy the outdoors.
You're a dick, Weather.
I did not let you spoil it all for me. I still had fun. I saw my family. I was on vacation. I was outdoors. The cold wasn't my favorite, but I still loved being out. You did not rain on my parade, so to speak.
I win. You lose. You're a dick.
Warmest Regards,
Johnny W.
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