Dear Miss,
Let me first apologise for the appalling way in which my people have treated you. What humanity as a whole has done (rape you) will likely never be erased, removed, or otherwise negated. (That oil leak alone is worth a few years in the shit for somebody.) If you ask me, if I were in your position, I'd be taking it out on the worst offenders (which is pretty much everyone save a few pockets of eco-aware civilisation.) So again, sorry. I got your back, babe.
I'll admit it took me until fairly late in my "childhood" to fall in love with you. I mean, sure, I always appreciated you and your greenness and fresh air. But not until I uprooted back to the motherland (albeit on the other side) did I fully come to realise your power and seduction. Hurtling down a hill on something slippery in the cold will remain one of my favourite things to do for the rest of my days, or at least the rest of my body's days. I love and respect you, so please take the following with that in mind.
Cut the crap.
Seriously, over 3 weeks of rain, with one or two sunny days to keep us mildly amused while we drink in the sun, is no way to keep me happy. I get it; you're in charge. I never disputed that. I don't even piss outside; it's slovenly and disrespectful. But come on. It's friggin' June.
Now I know that technically you still have about 2 weeks before summer officially begins, but let's be honest here. It's Canada; we're gonna be getting EXACTLY the same weather in October, and that rain does me no good if it's too warm to be snowing at the top. Save some for the fall.
Thank you for your time,
Aaron (and the rest of Whistler).
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