Are you there, God? It's us, the waterlogged, frostbitten, vitamin D-deprived survivors of the worst goddamn (oops, sorry), the worst year of weather since you made Noah build an ark. A foot of snow in March (out like a lamb, my arse); not one but two freaking hailstorms in June; 193 record-breaking millimeters of rain in July. Plus a summer that started in, like, mid-August and ended before we could even contemplate the humiliations of bathing suit season. When it rains, it really pours with you, doesn't it? And don't give us the old "Every cloud has a silver lining" line. What we want to know is why. Was this your idea of global warming humour? Or are we being punished for our sins (our affinity for swingers' clubs, So You Think You Can Dance Canada, Rob Ford)? Whatever we did to frost your cookies so supremely, we feel we've suffered enough. Are we cool now (in the non-climactic sense)? Because we need another year like this like we need two freaking hailstorms in June.
(stolen from the Toronto Life magazine, sorely tempted by yet another snowfall/freezing rain happening outside at this very moment)