My wet met man

What would it be like being married to a weatherman? I think that would be exciting. He'd have all the breaking, life-threatening news first and if we still loved each other, there could be a day when he knows and covers up news of approach of one big storm and we could stage one big getaway to a safe place leaving the rest of the city to weather a potentially devastating calamity. Then we could pursue stamp collecting and complete our own prize collections by picking out from other's collections in the rubble of the dead city we return to after the storm. We'll be the first to do so many things. We'll appropriate all history. Make new records. We'll be real chimp champs. And I think that's fair. No one thinks of weatherman otherwise - they're so hard done by and undesirable and deridable. 'So, what do you work as?' 'Meteorologist' 'Whatologist?''Weatherman da- the one who forecasts weather you see on dd?''O that(snigger)so you knew the tsunami aa?'('Ye-that's my pet name for that clump of pubic hair fraying out of the left neck of your your chuddi'). The secret miming turmoils he'd have to release every night, i could try tackling them with a study of the weather report, the rage, the mystery - it's the most compelling feeling I've every felt. 'I'mm moving in a north-westerly direction tonighhh with undercurrents right here'. I'm with you my weatherman. all the stormy way. We'll ride it out together.