It's funny. I went to bed in Portland, Oregon and woke up in North Dakota. I don't know how it happened, and frankly I am not too thrilled about it. See, Snow is pretty and all, and I really like the effect it has on the ambient sound of the outdoors, all muffled and strapped together with pillows, but I was under the impression that we had an unspoken agreement-- that Snow would only put in appearances on the periphreals of wherever it was that I happened to be operating at the time. If I wanted a rendevous, got a hankering for frostbite and wet shoes, numb feet and a frozen nose, then I would drive the 1 hour to where Snow had its place. Today, Snow crossed the line.
So, forgive me while I become juvenile for a moment or two.
I give you the Fleshy Bird of "Go Back to North Dakota!" Snow!
I sully your Virginal Whiteness with the Urine of Cheap Beer and Spite, Snow. This is my town!
I Poop on you, Snow! You must leave me in Peace, for this is no place for you!
Now that that is out of my system, well, I suppose I have to find something else to curse. Sorry for the ass shot, everyone. You know the Donner Party would have done the same thing had they digital cameras and a blog as well.
I promise, next time, something a little more relevant to the Bigger Picture, if you will.
(Photos: David F.)
(Stunt ass: Will Conquest)
(Special thanks to Pabst Blue Ribbon, Polaroid, and my Uvula)
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