Big Sydney brings an end to the Ps and quiet
Herald-Mail football prognosticator Big Sydney (September 5, 2012)
I showed them.
For nearly four decades, I have been the profiting prophet professing pigskin predictions while proficiently picking a peck of pickled peppers for Peter Piper, a part-time profession. I procured payment but please progress.
I decided to branch out. This summer, I added other talents to prove my infinite powers.
First, I cornered the market by minding my Ps instead of my Qs, as you might be able to tell.
Then, I decided to take control of the county’s weather pattern. I have this dream of making that weather nut Jim Cantore my personal puppet.
First, I turned up the oven in my powerful porch, percolating the Potomac, popping popcorn on the cob and plying people into puddles of putty.
(I know, please park the pile of pronouns and go poof.)
Then I got bored as things cooled off. My next project was to try and shake things up.
I got in my tricked out truck and turned the key. The engine started with such force and it caused most of the East Coast to shake, rattle and roll.
You thought it was a 5.8 level earthquake that shook the area for about five seconds. It felt like the original version of the old time rock ‘n’ roll. But no, that was me.
I make the Sons of Anarchy look like they are riding tricycles.
My greatest accomplishment might have been last weekend. You call me a bag of wind, but I was in control of the big storm. No, it was Me, Myself and Irene.
How do you think it missed the Washington County area? I was the one who steered it clear of Western Maryland and protected Dargan. But I made my point.
First, I pushed it over Washington, where there is always a lot of swirling hot air.
Second, I was able to make the Red Sox and Yankees play quicker games.
But I kept our home safe. Heck, there was more Hurricane damage in Miami.
I did supply one crowning achievement to prove my ability to control the weather and football at the same time.
If you watched TV, the media talked about beach erosion. Where did it all go?