Hm. We’re gonna need a bigger coffee cup.
I don’t think we’ve had a snowfall of any consequence this winter. Of course, now that I’ve said that, we’ll get hammered, probably tonight. — Your Humble Narrator, yesterday
Ho, ho, etc. I’m rarely right, but when I’m right, I’m right. Right?
I tumbled out of bed at stupid-thirty this morning to see if I needed to clear our black-diamond driveway for Herself, and glad I was of it, too, because I had to clear the sonofabitch twice.
The first go-round I broomed about an inch and a half of not-insubstantial snow off our slippery slope. When I turned around at the bottom to inspect my work I could see that the rematch had already been scheduled.
So after coffee and toast I had another go at it. Call it three inches of snow all told, which ain’t too shabby for these parched parts.
Once I was finished the lab fired off a message saying nobody needed to come to work until 10. Because of course they did.
I guess it takes a while to fire up the orbital space lasers Sandia uses to clear The Duck! City’s streets, what with all the batteries being earmarked for electric Hummers and whatnot.
Either that or they’re all tasked with vaporizing Chinese spy balloons.
Say, maybe that’s not snow. Maybe it’s vaporized Chinese spy balloon. Does that crap melt or just hang around being a pain in the ass, like George Santos?
Mad Blog Media 