“Cold enough fer youse? Twenny-five feels like zippo degrees eff cause a da wind chill factory, an onna account a our frozen hearts.
I’s figgered da winta was so bad dat da spring would a rolled smoodly right in widdout missin a beat, icebergs chasin da Titanic, Son, freezin-ass blizzerds slammin da warm deck a my boat.
But no such luck, snow an sleet at da end a March, da fuck is up wid dat? I don’t care dough, damn da torpedoes an full speed ahead, raise da anchor an sail right out inta da glaciated oceanic wasteland!