So Punxatawney Phil popped out of his hole today and saw his shadow, indicating by lore, six more weeks of Winter.
He then took a second look at his shadow and exclaimed, “Is that how fat I am? Why didn’t anybody tell me? You’ve been stuffing me full of grubs all Winter so you can pull me out in front of the world looking like this?”
Phil then viciously bit the goofy guy in the top hat and retreated back into his hole.
But this post isn’t just about Punxatawny Phil and his self-image issues; it’s about Erie Englebert, a lesser denizen of the great Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, and his predictive powers.
Erie Englebert came out of his hole today and didn’t see his shadow, clearly indicating, according to Erie Englebert, that he isn’t a self-absorbed idiot.
“Who walks outside, and the first thing they do is look for their shadow?” Englebert said derisively.
Legend has it that if Erie Englebert doesn’t see his shadow, there will be six more weeks of Winter. Possibly more, possibly less; the weather in Erie is freaking crazy.
“Phil thinks he’s so great,” Englebert bristled. “Just because some Dutch witch saw one of us 200 years ago and made some crazy proclamation, now Phil’s a meteorological genius.”
Phil dismissed the criticism, “Englebert’s always been jealous of me.”
“Jealous?” Englebert exclaimed in disbelief. “Have you seen how much weight Phil’s put on? I guess that’s what happens when you live in a place called Gobbler’s Nob.”
With that, it started snowing, and Englebert scuttled back into his hole until next year.
An Erie resident was heard muttering, “****ing groundhogs,” as she cleaned the lake-effect snow from her vehicle.