There is a bird singing outside my “office” window as I sit in a patch of sunshine at the end of another business day. Three hours of daylight remain. Do you know how dangerous these conditions are for the embattled race of snarks?
Every time a child eats an ice cream cone while holding a daisy, a snark moves to Siberia, never to return. Yeah. It’s that serious.*
Vitamin D levels are getting dangerously high for the snark, which thrives in the cold, dark corners where people huddle and convulse in piles of shivering sadness. This spring creature, The Season That Must Not Be Named, is a deadly foe.
Led by his nefarious superhero, Commander Sunshine, TSTMNBN specializes in disrupting and diverting attacks of snark.
- College students running with bikini-shaped thought bubbles bobbing behind them? Mmmm, feel that warm breeze lending wings to my feet. I love you guys!
- Comma errors in local advertisements? Look at the flower petal rainstorm below the sign. I love this city!
- The dilemma of buying men’s or women’s soap in the grocery store? The sunscreen is right across from the soap. I love the smell of sunscreen!
The situation is getting desperate, and I blame you, Commander Sunshine. For the love of all that is snarky, cease and desist! Cease and–
…
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Thank goodness for the influx of tiny ants creeping across my bathroom sink. Without them, the snark might not outlast the week.
*This message brought to you by the Society for the Preservation of Snark.
Snark on the Side 