https://twitter.com/christopher_mcm/status/690951391012003840?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw
In a word: why? Apparently the rational course of action amidst what’s ranked as one of the worst winter hellstorms of all time is to dig deep—perhaps in the liquor cabinet first—snag a speedo, and get your laps in as you ignore your testes steadily ascending toward the pit of your stomach.
No days off @hattersswimteam @swimswamnews pic.twitter.com/qzZ9uz8wUF
— Matt McCormick (@McC_lovin1) January 23, 2016
In the snow. When it’s still dumping Paul Bunyan sized dandruff flakes. And it’s literally illegal to drive round town; and the National Guard’s busy rescuing packs of numbnuts that stranded themselves in spite of the overwhelming surge of broadcasted storm-is-coming-stay-the-hell-inside-warnings.
In case you’re a part-time vegetable, and you just came out of a long stay abroad in a comatose cave; you should note that the east coast has been fucked seven ways from Sunday by a snowstorm that’d stop big Dennis Quaid in his tracks.
Let’s take a moment and pay our respects to the Finnish madcaps that actually compete in an event solely dedicated to this insane activity. Suffice to say that any dude out there with a big enough set of stones to dive headfirst, generally exposed into the snow deserves a massive mug of congratulatory booze.