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Friday, February 27, 2015

Hey. Guess what? It's Winter.

Ok, look.  There is only so much you can say or write about snow.  I mean, there's only so much anything snow related you can take.  And it's not like you can talk or write about anything else because this kind of snow is pretty hard to ignore.

 It's all about snow, every single minute.  Nothing else can even happen for a minute or two.  Everything is snow covered.  Or icy. It's all about getting ready for snow and then cleaning it up.  It's about  men with beards, bad hair due to hat head, not caring at all what you wear, or where you park.  Churches close and Satan takes over, and even he has grown a beard and it suddenly occurs to you that he looks a lot like Santa Claus so maybe all the overly-religious people were right after all, but I do not even care.   I just want to get in the car without chipping ice.

Let's face it, there is a reason even the basic design of a snowman has not changed since - well ever.  That's because he is the evil manifestation of Winter, who taunts you with his happy little smirk, and his carefree attitude.  What has he got to complain about?  He's not cold.  He's MADE of snow.  His skin is snow. His world is snow.  His stupid stick hands can't even hold a shovel.  Being warm would be the end of him, so he literally lives for BECAUSE OF  the snow.


See?  Same old stick arms, carrot nose.  Nothing new.  Over time they get a little dirty and start to shrink.  Big deal.  Who cares really?  I'm actually happy to watch these guys melt until there's nothing left but a hat and a scarf.  I really love it when I see a dog pee on one.  That's one of the only times I wish I was a dog, or the Woman Who Pees on Lawns - you know, because they don't care and have good aim.

 And would you just look at that happy smile, that smug look!?  You know what?  Fuck you, snowman.

I've leave you now, but I'll leave you with these because I am a sick individual.



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1 comment:

Please attach soul and sign in blood. Thank you, The Management