Dear Brad, or whatever your name was (I’ve forgotten):
I’m sorry I said what I did in 1994 or whenever that was, about hell freezing over. It was probably cruel, although I was trying to make a point about hitting on wimmins in the bar. The point *is* that I didn’t ever actually expect hell to freeze over. Now that it has, and it continues to EFFING SNOW, I would just like to make it abundantly clear that even though hell has frozen over, I am still not interested.
In fact, I’m not really sure I remember what it was you were trying to convince me to do, whether it was a date or a ‘hookup’ as the kids say, or a ‘booty call’ or just a drunken invitation to let you buy me a drink. I wasn’t interested then, and I’m not interested now. Please don’t look me up.
I’m sure this is just a weather anomaly of some kind and eventually hell will thaw. If Narnia can thaw after a couple hundred years of eternal winter, surely to Christ Saskatchewan can thaw.
Which reminds me of something. If, in the provincial election, a candidate promises to make all border entrances into Saskatchewan appear to go through a gigantic wardrobe, I will vote for them.