Dear Poor Lucky Me,
I have noticed that people who tell us what the weather will be- formerly known as the “weatherman”, now the “weatherperson”- is very often a moderately attractive woman with ill-fitting clothes.
It is hard for me to pay attention to the weather when I am starring at blazers whose buttons are bulging and skirts that bunch up over a poochy stomach. I keep thinking that maybe its just one day of a bad wardrobe choice, but no, it’s consistently bad.
I have a friend who does not dress very well and I am considering encouraging her to go to weatherperson school and major in meteorology or something like it.
If the weatherperson is a man, he is inevitably kind of douchy looking, not someone you would ever want to have a beer with.
Maybe this is a regional problem. I saw a weather person in Florida who was so sexy looking, the only thing she was missing was a pole.
Anyway, I just thought I would ask you if I should write or email the individual stations to critique their weatherpeople. Do you think this would help?
Signed, Curious
Dear Curious,
Local news teams are the freak shows of modern America. After the 1970′s when circus freak shows became socially unacceptable, people clamored for another group to stare and jeer at. So local news teams had a nationwide meeting and decided to fill in the gap. That’s why they have teeth so white that you can’t look directly at them, and hard hair do’s. The weather people are often the show’s main attraction- like Zip the Pinhead or Lobster Boy.
Poor fashion sense is just the tip of the ice berg. They can also have annoying accents, robot-like mannerisms, and indeterminable genitals. Most of them look like Barbie dolls “down there” trust me.
I think your input would be very helpful. Entertainers like to hear from their fans, especially when there is constructive criticism to be doled out. I emailed Paris Hilton several times about her dumb whorishness and behold- you rarely ever hear about her anymore. Well, I think she still has a television show but that doesn’t prove anything anymore.
Sincerely, Poor Lucky Me
