Cliche enough for ya?

The temperatures around here have been low of late. We’re talking -20s, -30s with the windchill. We’re also talking long-term – it’s been ridiculously cold for about two and a half weeks now.
On the wall outside my office door I have installed a chalkboard for messages, doodles, and so on. Currently, the message at the top of the board asks “What’s your favourite weather cliche?” These are the responses to date:
~ it’s colder than a witch’s tit
~ don’t eat yellow snow
~ it’s so cold I saw a lawyer with his hands in his own pockets
~ it’s cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey*
~ I’m freezin’ me bunions off
~ cold enough for ya?
~ I’m chilly willy
and the only one related to warm weather:
~ it’s hotter than a whore in church.
*I’ve also been told twice about the actual meaning** of this phrase. I know. Also, when you’re trying to explain something to someone and they stop you to say “I know,” please stop trying to explain it.
**brass monkey = platform for cannon balls. Cold, metal contracts, brass differently from lead, balls fall off. Way funnier (not to mention more indicative of really cold weather) to picture brass simian figure with testicles falling off, first one, then the other, with a small, metallic “ting.”

6 Replies to “Cliche enough for ya?”

    Once upon a time there was a man named Mr. Lionel Fortague.
    He didn’t have very much to talk about.
    In summer he used to ask people if it was hot enough for them
    It always was
    In winter he used to ask people if it was cold enough for them
    It always was
    Mr. Lionel Fortague got pretty sick of people it was hot enough for.
    He got pretty sick of people it was cold enough for too.
    He decided he would arise and go now.
    He decided he would go to Innisfree.
    The people of Innisfree are different, thought Mr. Lionel Fortague.
    As soon as he got to Innisfree he asked the people if it was cold enough for them.
    They asked him What? Was what cold enough for who?
    Mr. Lionel Fortague was delighted
    I knew Innsifree would be different, he said to himself.
    He could hardly wait for summer to verify his conclusion.
    As soon as summer came he asked everybody if it was hot enough for them.
    Everybody said the question was familiar, but they couldn’t remember the answer.
    Mr. Lionel Fortague said he would settle down on Innisfree, the home of iridescent chitchat.
    He said he would a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made.
    Everybody said did he mean he would build a small cabin there, made of clay and wattles?
    Mr. Lionel Fortague said yes, but his way of putting it was more poetic.
    Everybody said maybe, but they were all out of wattles.
    Mr. Lionel Fortague grew very angry at the people of Innisfree.
    He a small cabin built there, of clay and beaverboard made.
    He a fierce-looking dog at an annual clearance sale bought, and it the people of Innisfree one by one to bite he instructed.
    My, he was disappointed.
    He had forgotten that a bargain dog never bites.

  2. “It’s colder than a welldigger’s ass.” I’m not sure if that’s a cliche or just a Tom Waits lyric. I’m also not clear on why a welldigger’s ass would be colder than anybody else’s ass. But, hey, I haven’t really known alot of welldigger’s in my time.

  3. Are you quite sure its cold out? I just walked around the yard and all I saw were flowers.
    (Provincial humor, pun intended.)
    I posted a photo of them on my blog.
    And I admit if I wasn’t such a wimp about cold weather I’d love to go stay in Quebec one winter, just to see the how pretty the snow can be. I miss the beauty of the snow and ice; I just don’t miss the cold.

  4. Did you see This Hour Has 22 Minutes the other night? A weather report showed a map with temperatures accross the prairies ranging from -141 to -376, the announcer advising “People will die.” I don’t remember the last time I laughed so hard. Reallly, it was very funny.

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