The most useless collection of twats on the face of the planet must be the weather forecasters on RTE (Ireland’s national broadcaster). Night after night they get their forecasts spectacularly wrong. Night after night they re-emerge from their lair to give us the latest load of bollocks without as much as a glimmer of shame or embarrassment for the preceding string of fiascos.
And it’s not for lack of technology and razzmatazz. Their charts have more arrows than the Battle of Little Bighorn, plus a jaw-dropping array of symbols and jargon. "A diurnal cyclonic trough of isometric isodrosotrhermal precipitation is centred off the Azores”. And what the hell am I supposed to make of that??? I don't CARE about the Azores, FFS. Or ‘a weather front is moving in from the Atlantic’. Well? What KIND of weather front? Hot? Cold? Wet? Stormy? We never learn.
Listen, all I want to know is whether it’s going to rain tomorrow. Surely that’s not asking too much of the experts? But clearly it is. Take yesterday. The Met forecast bright sunny weather for today, with temperatures up to the mid-twenties. Now that’s heat wave territory for Ireland. Based on this I got a full body spray tan, got my nipple rings burnished at the jewellers, and took out my Speedos and tight-fitting sweatshirt, all to dazzle the townsfolk as I strode the streets of my town.
And what happened? I woke this morning at the crack of noon and threw back the curtains. Rain and wind lashed the windows, while icicles began to form on the eaves. So much for the heat wave. Even with our central heating on full belt Lady Savant and I shivered in misery throughout the day. And this happens all the time, all without even a hint of acknowledgement when the twats come on the next evening. They should make their programme short and sweet. Just say "please, for the love of Jesus, don't ever listen to me again. You’d be better off tossing a coin"