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Groundhog's Diary: Part 1



Gobbler's Knob
Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania
February 2, 2008
3:12 a.m.

Damn. Here we go again.

People don't understand what this "Groundhog Day" hype does to me. I've never been a morning person, and yet every year they yank me out of my nice little burrow at the crack of dawn on February 2nd and ask me damn fool questions about my shadow.

Ask me if I care.

Ask me if I really want to haul my ass out into the freezing cold before breakfast and have total strangers snap my picture.

Nobody pays me for these little weather forecasts. Nobody says, "Phil, thanks so much for this information, would you like some hot chocolate?"

Groundhogs should really have a union.

The worst thing is, after all the bowing and scraping, by February 3rd I'm history. Mark my words, this year it'll be the same. After the 'early spring/six more weeks of winter' hoopla, my entire entourage will be off to make chili for Super Bowl parties. Thanks a lot, guys. You didn't even ask which team I like.

I need to come up with some way of lasting more than one news cycle.

Maybe I can advocate for Groundhog Rights. Maybe I can endorse a Presidential candidate.

Barack, Hillary, John, Mitt -- let's talk. You know where to find me.

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