A note to my readers who I recently found out may or may not exist:
Good day, and a merry weather to you! You may notice that this week’s last week’s weather is strikingly similar to last week’s last week’s weather. This is not an error; the weather has just been boring and routine for this week’s and last week’s last week’s weather, respectively. Get those Chinese weather-influencing salt-cannons ready, we’re hoping for some good stuff in next week’s last week’s weather.
This week in last week’s weather, we talk about the weather from last week: A real meteorologist predicted that this week’s weather would be “mostly pleasant.” I’ve only been able to apply that description to one thing in my life: getting kicked in the testicles by my childhood crush, Becky “The Whore” Banini. I heard she recently developed a Xanax addiction. If I had any sensation left in my groin, I’m sure it would feel like justice. Anyway, in between lapses of consciousness and “time commitments,” I may have noticed the sun once or twice this week. It seemed nice—like the gentle caress of an innocent child, its arm reaching out in sub-lethal doses of cosmic radiation as atoms explode in radiant death at the heart of the sun. It was also a good week to go running by the Charles, if you’re into that kind of thing. A “friend” asked me to jog to MIT with him on Tuesday. I said, “Okay, if the weather is good.” It was. I hate running.
Aggregate score: 5 out of 10.
If you still have an interest in comping the Harvard Crimson’s Crimson Weatherboard, please email firstname.lastname@example.org. Virgins are preferred.