Tomorrow, a winter storm is supposed to blow into the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. I don't know how bad it's going to be. I've heard six inches. I've heard twelve inches. I've heard freezing rain. I've heard 35 mile per hour winds. But I've also heard that the storm is tracking west and is going to totally miss us.
That's basically Saint Marty's day in a nutshell: snow and vomit.
|This makes me want to puke|