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Jesus, will this shit ever stop? Another front came through and dumped even more snow on Western Washington. As a kid I loved snow. But as a vehicle-driving adult, I learned to hate snow. Now, I’m back to kid-like feelings about snow, well, maybe 80% for and 20% against. If it snows in the north Sound, it’s highly likely we’re not going into the office. Oh, we still have to work — we telecommute from home — but we don’t have to make the soul-crushing 100-mile, two and a half hour commute. When the weather guessers spin their wheel o’ precipitation, and it lands on “snow,” our carpool gets as excited as a gaggle of queers in a leap frog contest. Lately I feel like I’m 13 again, listening to the school closure list for “851″ on WCOJ 1420 AM. If we heard the radio list 851 on the closure list, it meant no school. The full school district name is announced on TV and radio here in Washington, and it seems so inefficient. Amateurs.
Since it snowed, we didn’t head into the office. Although we made a valiant effort trying. It was 35°F when I woke up at 4:00am. The first thing I did was check the traffic cameras on the state’s transportation site from Mount Vernon to Everett. No snow. Doppler radar showed precipitation over head, but there was nothing falling. I got ready to go and met up with the car pool… Aw, fuck the long story. I’m too tired and too old to type it all out. Let’s fast-forward to crossing Deception Pass Bridge. It was just starting to flurry, and the highway was only damp. The further east we drove, the heavier the snow was falling. We didn’t even make it past the Swinomish reservation before the highway was so slippery, the car’s traction control was kicking in trying to save our fat asses. We turned around and headed home to .
Oh Jebus H. McChrist! Tina’s watching the premier of American Idol 6 as I type this. What in the southern fried fuck makes these people believe they can sing? Goddamn! Some of these people sound like a pygmy goat trying to queef out a Whitney Houston song. I think I’m getting a headache.
Well, crap. I’ve completely lost the desire to write more. I have to pee, and I’m tired of looking at a computer. I have a few more topics to cover… including one that might even get me into some trouble. I’ll Wikipediafy this update and call it a done deal. Sorry for the shortness. I’ll try to do better next time.
Hey old man, if I can sit through months of football, you can sit through a few of Idol…even the Seattle auditions. Which were less than stellar, and deserve the harshness of the judges, if ya ask me. (So stop your whining you over-paid carpet-heffer from the View.)
While we now are getting “Normal” rainy weather I’m hoping for a really snowy Winter-as long as there’s power-and just maybe, all the little school brats will spend their Summer vacation making up snow days and not be out and about screwing up Summer for the rest of us::0
So let’s hope for a forecast of “Snowy Paws”.
PUSSY!
Born east of the Mississippi, even the Monangahila or whatever 1950′s monster movie named river in Pennsylvania, you gonna faint like a bitch from the dusting the PNW gets?
Man up, boy-o!
Clench them asscheeks and get ON WITH IT!
Quitcher whining and get the damned job done!
Bears are gonna kick the Colts’ asses, and all you can do is watch cuz Philadelphia ain’t invited!
HAR!
– Art
Not only was the location of my birth east of the Monongahela River, it was also east of the Allegheny River and east — barely east — of the Schuykill River in PHILADELPHIA.
Back in Philly, the people handled snow much better than they do here on the left coast. Even though we could drive in it, if we didn’t have to, we didn’t. PennDOT always used rock salt on the roads to melt snow and ice, which turned to slush and refroze. Fenderbergs on cars caused cancerous rust, which is never a Good Thing™. Besides, snow plus dumbass equals accident waiting to happen.
So, we had this great thing called MASS TRANSIT. Whenever it snowed in the city we’d take the BUS! A grumpy African-American with a greasy hair-do would drive by every 20 or 30 minutes, and stop her bus at a street corner located somewhere near our house. If I happened to be on that corner at the same time, I’d hop my fat ass on, and pay $1.50. Miss Jheri Curl would shoot me an indignant look, because the extra quarter I paid meant she had to give me a transfer ticket, and she’d have to so something besides drive. God forbid I ask her to lift her hamarms above her low-hanging titties. Once I got my transfer, I’d move the morning’s newspaper kindly left by a previous rider, or kick a dirty diaper out of the way and have a seat in the only empty seat on the bus. The bus always smelled like the men’s room at Veterans Stadium mid-way through the 4th quarter of an Eagles game. Luckily it was winter, and it didn’t smell as bad as it normally did in the summer.
Anyway… You HAD to have seen the news coverage of the artards that couldn’t drive on the Interstate. Hundreds of cars abandoned on the side of the road. And even if you had the skills to drive in that weather, it took 6 hours to drive 20 miles. Screw that noise! No amount of manning up can prepare you for that kind of ass rape.
So, I’ll be a pussy and bitch and whine about the snow… as long as I can work from home where it’s nice and warm, and I can get a noon knobber without having to drive anywhere at lunch.
Fuck the Bears and Rex Grossman. Fuck Peyton Manning and his Colts. I will make a prediction, however. Note the date stamp of this comment, because I will be 100% accurate. My bold prediction is, the team that wins the Super Bowl, will be coached by a black man. You can take that to the bank, baby!