Never tease the Snow Gods. They will take a frosty dump on you from a considerable height.
True, it wasn’t much of a dump; just a few heavy, wet inches. Still, during round one on Thursday the roads got so slick that Herself refused to take me back down to Reincarnation to collect the Fearsome Furster after its semiannual pulse check. And even I could see the wisdom in not tackling the trip on two wheels, especially after I nearly faceplanted on an icy spot while shoveling our ski jump of a driveway.
Round two overnight was strictly a broomer, but the icy bits remained, and I checked my footing as I swept this morning.
“I break a hip and she’ll put me down for sure,” I mumbled to myself. “She’s a sensible woman, albeit a bit ruthless, won’t let the Medical-Industrial Complex suck the nest egg dry rehabbing an ill-tempered ould villain who’s months away from the brain fleas even if he gets back to limping around the property, acting out all the parts in whatever noxious play he’s producing in that scabby, hairless head. Hire some 19-year-old stud-muffin to handle the shoveling and other personal services. …”
Speaking of jobs of work, I see Joe reared up on his hind legs and talked some smack, so I guess he wants to keep the job after all. Christ only knows why. He has to have enough tucked away to sweep Jill off to a white sandy beach somewhere, let the SS boyos fetch the umbrella drinks and fajitas, take the weepy calls from Hunter in gaol. No, no newspapers, thanks all the same. And keep that TV turned off.
Meanwhile, Wayne LaPerrier, that fizzy little firearms fancier, is stepping down from the NRA to spend more time with his lawyers, guns, and money, because the rest of that wonderful Warren Zevon lyric.
And I guess Doug Lamborn finally got tired of being the King of El Paso County. Surely some worthy Democrat can finally snatch that House seat from the cold, cruel clutches of the GOPee hee hee hee haw haw haw haw as fuckin’ if.
The Duck! City may have frozen over but Hell hasn’t. I just checked The Weather Channel.
Mad Blog Media 
PO’G: Re the Bibleburg et environs US Rep announcement, already there are plenty of Republican potential successors queuing up and even a handful of Democrat potentials. I wouldn’t attempt to guess how it turns out; but there’s gonna be lots of fun, shenanigans, (out-of-district funding?), and games as the primaries roll around.
JD, I expect it’ll be a lot like an election in Crusty County: The only contest that counts is the GOP primary. That doesn’t mean it won’t be entertaining, though. Like th’owing five pounds of ground round over the razor wire and into the dog pound.
PO’G: It reminds me of the old joke “I haven’t had this much fun since the pigs ate my brother!”
Gotta love primaries and the subsequent “What I really meant to say about XX in the primary was “I hope she’ll/he’ll support/endorse me in the general election”. 🙂
“Voodoo economics! What? Of course I’ll be your vice president!”
Woo! Snow, sun and blue sky. That surely is a purty image.
I bought that new snow shovel so there hasn’t been much white stuff in our neck of the rock patch. Those who claim weather proficiency though, indicate that our lack of ground coverage may change later next week. I hope so. I wouldn’t want that shovel to get lazy.
You don’t have a studded wheelset just hanging up in your garage ready for use? A pair of Nokian’s or IRC’s that allow you to levitate over slick ass icy roads at bike lightning speeds?
I’ve rocked studded running shoes a time or two, mostly up to Weirdcliffe and at the Mount Taylor Winter Quadrathon. Just add a few short sheet-metal screws to your Keds and carry on, damn the weather conditions, full speed ahead. Don’t wear ’em on the hardwood floors, though.
Dumpster’s cult members will continue to pay for his and lil wayne’s mouthpieces. “Stupid is as stupid does.”
“The N.R.A. said Mr. LaPierre had attributed his decision to ‘health reasons.’” Like, they’re sick of his ongoing party on their dime?
POG your post might be a big mistake. You’re giving Herself more than enough reasons for maybe spiking your coffee with Drano. You made it sound like you are ordering up a wheelchair, drinking straws and no-lace Velcro shoes. Hell, like that Forester, you’ll be going strong for quite awhile. Vintage-perhaps but developing a great patina and gravitas. Or is it gravy-tas? And what might be the title of the “noxious play” that you’re in?
O, hell, she’s got 33 years’ worth of reasons to fuck with my heartbeat. The male O’Gradys, when they marry at all, choose women of a certain Sicilian efficiency. This works fine until it doesn’t.
I recall that when the Ould Fella was shuffling off this mortal coil my mom was racing around town changing names on various accounts.
“I can’t be waiting on probate,” she explained, wheeling like A.J. Foyt into yet another bank parking lot. “I have bills to pay.”
The Boss likes me just fine, but if I’m in the nursing home and she gets that look on her face and starts fluffing my pillow I want some big strong nurse standing by to make sure the pillow goes under my head, not over it.
The Voices and I don’t have a working title for the noxious play yet. But it will be very very very off-Broadway, if not off-planet entirely.
Just checked the weather forecast for that part of MI and Hell is due for a 19°F high a week Sunday.
Opus…Ah a lovely little crossroads Hell is, just nested near the huge Waterloo Recreation area. Some fine cycling in that area but motorcycles love those roads too so be watchful. There’s been a popular bike ride (One Helluva Ride) in July every year. And some years the weather is…..you guessed it.
Sorry, I try to take in the Hotter’n’Hell 100 in Wichita Falls TX the weekend before Labor Day (one year they made everybody get off the course when the heat index got too high).