December 14, 2007

Fuck Your Winter Wonderland, Mrs. Marshmallow Pants

It's been a while since I was out during daylight hours, man. I found this out the hard way this morning as I watched my dog take a big shit in the snow. Steam rose up and drifted away for about six fucking feet. This amazed and horrified me, and I stood around until the toxic waste stopped smoking before I dared to bag it.

I'm sure this happens every time he's taken a dump since the day about a month ago where I was able to put a pint of ice cream outside my door to save for later, but since I usually walk him in the dark, I've been spared the horror of actually seeing it happen until now.

Somebody threw a bike off a bridge a week ago, over the deepest part of the river. The bike's been sitting there ever since. In a couple of days someone will walk out and get it, probably.

The spillway has been trying to freeze over for weeks, but so far the water's been moving too fast. This morning, though, there were three or four spots where ice had built up enough to block the flow. Where the water did come out, it was roaring and vicious and sent up a crazy steam cloud you could see for blocks around.

I would have gotten pictures, but the cool new camera has a defective sensor and stopped working for good right after I videotaped the dog frolicking in the snow on the way out. I hope to god it's still under warranty.

It was fuck knows how far below zero when we first went out. By the time we got back two hours later it had risen to a startling 1*, and I could feel my nose again. I wish I couldn't.

The best thing about winters that plunge below zero is that suddenly 40* seems like the much-longed for dog days of summer. Also good is the way your breath condenses into a hearty pirate beard on your muffler within a few minutes.

By the end of the walk, the Captain was manic and shivering. Five bucks says the little bastard lets me fucking sleep through the night uninterrupted for a change.

I think someone stole the Christmas tree in the town square. There were twigs and small branches scattered around the empty holder thingie. Kids in this town must get so fucking bored.

On that note, I found graffiti on a wall that read "Magically Delicious." The way I see it, someone's trying to start shit with the Malt-O-Meal gang. This could get good! I'll keep you posted.

The goal of this morning's walk was to pick up some cinnamon rolls and fresh Italian bread at the EconoFood place. I also got hamburger, but I was too tired when I got home to cook it, and ate cinnamon rolls and Italian bread with Nutella instead. Carbolicious and very very good.

Saturday, the dog trainer comes for our first session. She does house calls because the entire town is five feet in diameter and all she'll have to do to get to our place from where she lives is turn around and knock. This kind of business model is new to me, but I'll roll with it because I'm lazy and it's warm here. She apparently tailors her lessons based on client needs, so I've whipped up a nice list of ways I want this animal's spirit to be crushed. It's going to be awesome.

PS - People look at you funny when you walk around laughing maniacally. Maybe because they can't see the iPod headphones and thus do not know you're listening to George Carlin performing "When Will Jesus Bring The Pork Chops?"



It's going to be the best fun I ever had with my clothes on.

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