The weather is wicked, they are saying lots of rain and 60 mph winds.
Not exact matches
not
wicked enough to
be trashed by whooping natural disaster, just yearly corrective bad
weather, enough to repent maybe?
Really it just wants to
be old and it isn't so you see those of us from New England just traveling around the world, shaking off those chains of the sharp quickening
weather and that sad desire to
be classy or old usually betrayed by our quaint speech —
wicked or our loafers, or deliberately well - worn clothes in New England's endless imitation of «real» which
is a copy of those who we think know about something older — we think they own stuff, Harvard and the Swan Boats and that Swan Boat accident and all that cold
weather food.
Once you
're completely sucked into this novel's suspenseful storyline, you'll forget all about the
wicked weather outside.
Good thing you
are reminding me of spring because something
wicked this way comes and it has nothing to do with spring - like
weather.