I think we can agree that the phrase "polar vortex" should only be used to describe a catastrophic blizzardy mess. Not a snow storm. Not even a blizzard, but something much greater. It'll lose it's meaning if we throw it around too much.
The polar vortex, Hercules, rolled in over the land
and demolished the homes and futures
of the people who lived in the place we used to call...
...Long Island.
That sounds pretty cool, right? But in fact, Hercules floated over our island and gently rested a two or three foot layer of fluffy snow upon the ground. Adorable. That's not worthy of a name like Hercules or a phrase like polar vortex.
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| Now this gentleman knows a true polar vortex when he sees one. |
If we're gonna start calling every snow storm a polar vortex, I might have to call my next sneeze a "nasal vortex." How about an "anal vortex" for farts?
Or maybe we should instead be naming them. The great Tom Conway suggested his next poot be named Zeus. And if it escaped while in a bath, perchance Neptune. And then if it had a great deal of stank on it, maybe Beelzebubbles.
But let's not get too carried away.
To be fair, the polar vortex was not the type of storm but rather the thing that caused it and the rest of awful coldness across the U.S. The vortex is a constant in the arctic circle and sometimes happens to swoop down low and cause shit like this. =D the more you know!
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