TowsonWeather

It's been explained to you a thousand times and yet you keep asking. Which isn't because you want an answer, you just want to whine at everyone in the form of a question. We get it. We really do get it. We know you think weather models suck. I promise, additional rounds of passive aggressive "questions" aren't needed.

28 degrees here just south of Towson.

Do you not realize his game by now? If snow is projected, he blathers about some nonsense to say it won't snow. If it isn't forecast, he blathers about some nonsense to say that it will.

I've been out of the weather loop. Any thoughts on timing/duration/intensity of the rainy weather tomorrow? Just from glancing at guidance it seems like it's not gonna be TOO bad - just trying to figure out some logistics for the O's game.

Spoken like an experienced DMV resident.

Sounds like the fecal cherry on top of this winter's sh*t sundae.

The JMA will save us.

And here we still sit...in America's snow taint.

Miller B? Not seeing that at all.

I'll sum it up: he's kind of a dummy who is not particularly honest about his Big Pronouncements when they don't come to pass.

You've been awfully definitive in your announcements that this is all but dead and buried...

The ICON? lol

The Euro has moved WAY more to the GFS than the GFS has toward the Euro on this event. GFS has crept up a few degrees...Euro is close to a full cave.

I'm gonna let RavensRule handle this one.

There was one run - the one at the same time the GGEM went bananas - that looked very good for us. Outside of that though, you're right that it's been unenthused with this storm for most of our region.

Central NC with close to 3 feet. Seems reasonable.

I was literally posting this IDENTICAL post when I saw yours, lol

Not reading minds, just posts.

No one is doing this, except maybe tongue-in-cheek. People (correctly) have a healthy dose of skepticism. But no one is doing what you describe.

Where the L is on the map isn't necessarily indicative of the low "jumping" from one place to the next.

Looks like a pretty solid map for now - and she's clear that it's early and things could change.

2010 we had 30 inches followed by 14 inches in like 5 days. And that was following a 5-6-inch appetizer 48 hours earlier. Craziest week of weather in my life.

I'd trade a 3-foot blizzard for nothing. That's once in a lifetime stuff.

‘Twas the night before Bustmas, when all through the forum, Not a poster was stirring—there was short-lived decorum. The models were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that Bob Chill himself soon would be there; The posters were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of MECS and HECS danced in their heads; And mappy in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap, Had just settled down for a long winter's nap, When all ‘cross the site there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. Away to the laptop I flew like a flash, Tore open the cover and refreshed my cache. The light on the page of the brightly-lit screen, Gave new lustre to ravensrule’s posts (though obscene). When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer, With a little old poster, so wise and so still. I knew in a moment it must be St. Chill. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name; "Now, Mattie! now, Tracker! now, Psuhoffman, On, Fozz! on Ji! on, Leesburg, and Ian. To the top of the page! The GFS has us buried! Now post away! post away! post away, merry! As dendrites that before the wild nor’wester fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, So up to the regional forum they flew, With a sleigh full of snow maps, and new EURO runs, too. And then, in a twinkling, I saw that he’d posted. With humor and insight (and blizzards he’d toasted). As I clicked on his name, and was turning around, Down the chimney Bob Chill himself came with a bound. He was dressed all in white, from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; A six pack of beers he had flung on his back, And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow; The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath; He had a broad face and a little round belly, That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old weenie, And I laughed when I saw him, and sipped my martini. A wink of his eye and a click of his mouse, Soon gave me to know there’d be snow at my house. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his task, Posting maps all in pink; and then turned with a gasp. And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose; He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, as I stood there awestruck: “HAPPY KUs TO ALL, AND OH YEAH: SHUT UP, CHUCK!”