Slush No Be Get Respect

Hello. Me slush. Me here now in Seattle, snow go away. But me no be happy. No. Slush sad. And mad. Why?

Well, think us. Everybody all "Oooohh, snow so pretty, snow so nice. I hope it snow."

Nobody ever say "Oh, slush. Slush nice. I hope it slush."

No, no. All day it be "Ew, slush. Yuk, slush. Ugh, hate slush. Snow gone, now just slush."

And poor slush name! It be for bad things! See book of words (no be drop it on slush now): say slush be "refuse grease and fat from cooking especially on shipboard," "trashy and usually cheaply sentimental material," and "unsolicited writings submitted (as to a magazine) for publication."

Slush no be hang with such trash!

How you feel you hear that all day? It not fair. Snow think it so great. People make snowmen, throw snowball, cut paper snowflake, go slide snow on hills. But make slushmen? Have slush fight with slush fort? Put slush on windows? Stay slush resort? No. Slush no be good enough.

OK, I kind of...slushy. Still. I be water, and you body be like 60 percent water. Oh, me ice, too. You know. Ice, all sparkle? Put in drinks? And me snow! What not to like? Wear rubber shoes, you like me fine.

You like me cousin Slushee, all blue orange red lime. Just say.

You no can see slush tears because so water, but slush sad.

When slush comes to love, find none!