Rain, rain, go away; come back again another day. My grandmother used to recite that during gloomy stretches like the one we’re having in New England. I don’t remember if it worked when I was six, but I can tell you it’s not working today. Forget buckets, it’s been raining oil drums. My co-worker and I were contemplating that other saying made popular by the song It’s Raining Men. We’ve been stuck indoors for eons, so perhaps we’re overthinking it, but as great as it sounds, we’ve determined that should the sky open up and rain men, we might be seriously injured. Also, they might be seriously injured. We thought about teaming up to catch the smaller ones but even then we might break our arms. In conclusion, we feel the raining men forecast might be dangerous.