I start my mornings by channel surfing through my local channels until one of them gives me weather and traffic. I don't care which one, really. I have no brand loyalty toward one group of people, I believe all of them do a great job reading the teleprompter. Some ensembles try to diversify with an Asian woman reading sports or by simply selling the entire station to a Native American tribe. Other ensembles do not care about diversity at all, like Univision, where only the whitest Hispanics, so they claim, read in Spanish. I wonder if Lou Dobbs knows they make more money that he does. This, however, is not the focus of my rant. My rant focuses on the weather.
Today, my weather report was given by a smokin' hot woman in her very early twenties. I know what you're thinking, big deal, everyone gets their weather from an attractive, not-so-bright person. Sure, but in Miami, we are a little more audacious than in, let's say, Jersey. She not only gave me a full weather report with perfect highlights and French manicure, but she also told me that "my metropolitan area was getting a soaking" and then gave me a wink. RAAAOW!
Does anyone know when exactly the local news weatherman/woman became the morning chub of the newscast? I tried looking this up on Wikipedia, but no luck. I mean national weather people are all normal, except for Al Roker, he is delicious.
I know that the weather report has always been the fluffy feel good part of the news. They put sunglasses on the sun and frowns on rain clouds. They are generally inaccurate, which is why they often send these scientologists out to broadcast the weather from the house that has the most inflatable Snoopies in Santa Hats. This is all fine, but when did these meet-her-ologists start wearing way-too-opened shirts (and this is just the men in the profession)?
It is only during Hurricane season that they bring out the ugly people. Do you know why? The ugly people actually went to class.
So, local pretty weather people, listen up: you are all adorable, but you are not really climb-a-tographers. Science Fair judges, maybe. Your report can be replaced with a single graphic. But for the sake of the economy and your livelihoods, you can keep your jobs. I would just like to suggest you either quietly point at the green screen or just come out in a bikini already and swing on a pole. You can call it the North Pole. If there's rain you can dump a bucket of water on you.
I just hate things that are half-way.
"Back to you, Bob."
Today, my weather report was given by a smokin' hot woman in her very early twenties. I know what you're thinking, big deal, everyone gets their weather from an attractive, not-so-bright person. Sure, but in Miami, we are a little more audacious than in, let's say, Jersey. She not only gave me a full weather report with perfect highlights and French manicure, but she also told me that "my metropolitan area was getting a soaking" and then gave me a wink. RAAAOW!
Does anyone know when exactly the local news weatherman/woman became the morning chub of the newscast? I tried looking this up on Wikipedia, but no luck. I mean national weather people are all normal, except for Al Roker, he is delicious.
I know that the weather report has always been the fluffy feel good part of the news. They put sunglasses on the sun and frowns on rain clouds. They are generally inaccurate, which is why they often send these scientologists out to broadcast the weather from the house that has the most inflatable Snoopies in Santa Hats. This is all fine, but when did these meet-her-ologists start wearing way-too-opened shirts (and this is just the men in the profession)?
It is only during Hurricane season that they bring out the ugly people. Do you know why? The ugly people actually went to class.
So, local pretty weather people, listen up: you are all adorable, but you are not really climb-a-tographers. Science Fair judges, maybe. Your report can be replaced with a single graphic. But for the sake of the economy and your livelihoods, you can keep your jobs. I would just like to suggest you either quietly point at the green screen or just come out in a bikini already and swing on a pole. You can call it the North Pole. If there's rain you can dump a bucket of water on you.
I just hate things that are half-way.
"Back to you, Bob."
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