I don't know if you'll remember this, but I really don't enjoy being chilly. In fact, I hate it. If I ever met Old Man Winter, we would have Old Man Floods because he would melt under the disdain of my eyeballs.
Oh yeah, I said it. Disdain. I sneer in the face of Winter.
I do this because I freeze up when I get cold. I'm not kidding when I say that I believe I had frostbite in my hands - a brisk wind absolutely paralyzes them and I can't move my fingers. You may laugh, but wait until you get frostbite - you won't be laughing then!
So, after work today, I dutifully trotted over to my window and punched the little button to start my vehicle. Meanwhile, I thank the Lord God in Heaven for my SUV because the roads here are treacherous. Swishy snow atop ice - perfect driving conditions, no?
Anyway, my beloved White Lightening started and I waited for the kids to finish writing their little tests. Meanwhile, my guts were near-foundered from hunger (aka I was starving, for all of you people not from Newfoundland), and there were major discussions to be had before I left the building.
Discussions - go.
Tests - go.
Food - no go.
: - (
Grrr. Off into the cold Arctic freezer-burn-weather I go to get my mail and possibly something delicious to eat before I go home. I didn't make it very far because I was just too contrary. Chips were on sale for $2 so I bought two bags. Fine.
Chocolate, Ginger Ale, and Plain Wavy Lays for supper. I'm not complaining. Whatever.
If someone thinks I should be eating healthier meals, then someone needs to cook said meals for me. I'm just sayin'...
So I got home, plugged in my vehicle because it's -15 and no doubt it'll end up being -5000 before the night is done, and my hands were immediately frozen into claw-like figures.
ARGH.
This is painful and infuriating.
Why do I have to be Gargoyle Claws?
So I don't sleep all night and I have Owl Eyes, and then I get to have the ole Gargoyle Claws, too.
Attractive.
Beatin' the boys off with the sticks, I'm tellin' you.
(It's funny how phrases have changed so much that the meaning of something in my grandparents' generation has an entirely different meaning in my generation. If you think the above sentence was sexual, it wasn't, and that goes to show you're not old enough to read that sentence, so pretend you didn't see it.)
Back to the Claws... I plugged in the SUV, and grabbed my stuff and trudged off into the house. Well, into the backyard, and over the deck, and to the back door... because you know, I am Fred Penner/Batman, and nothing is ever really simple with me, is it?
When I got to the back door, the old Gargoyle Claws were still going strong, and the Sensor Light kicked in but went out because it was taking me so long to get the key in the lock.
ARGH.
So I would have to walk back a few feet to get the light on. I had to do this a couple of times.
The key was in the lock, but it wouldn't turn.
I would have laid my head against the door and cried, but I thought it might freeze there, and I would be a real whole Gargoyle.
Finally, with my bookbag in one arm, and the bag of chips pinched precariously in my fingertips, I got inside and made it to my door.
And dropped the chips. *sigh*
Frozen solid hands. I couldn't pick anything up - so I gave it a little tap.
With my foot.
Just a little tap, a kick, you might say.
Not a full-on soccer ball kick, but one that I may have used to usher something in the door. Like an unruly bag of chips.
Problem: the chip bag exploded everywhere. It actually gave me a bit of a fright.
In fact, I think the bag exploded in fear before my foot even touched it - a premature explosion, if you will.
Chips were everywhere, as you can see.
I forgot about my hands a little bit then because I was wondering what in the name of God got into those chips.
I knew what was going to get into those chips - a little white furry monster, for sure.
He had a field day. You know the rule, "Take what you touch" ? Well, Harley Barley the Maniac ran around and licked a lot of chips. He was very excited about the bounty on the floor.
When the chips are down, you have to make the best of it. Monster Lips sure did.
I saved what was left in the bag for my Party Lunch (aka not a real meal but I'm too lazy to make one so I'll pretend I am celebrating something) and scooped up the rest to throw away in order to save myself the trouble of scooping them up in the various other forms they would take as they digested through the Maniac's body.
So, now... chips, chocolate, coffee, liquer, and a collection of psychological essays on Dexter.
Makin' the best of it.
Oh yeah, I said it. Disdain. I sneer in the face of Winter.
I do this because I freeze up when I get cold. I'm not kidding when I say that I believe I had frostbite in my hands - a brisk wind absolutely paralyzes them and I can't move my fingers. You may laugh, but wait until you get frostbite - you won't be laughing then!
So, after work today, I dutifully trotted over to my window and punched the little button to start my vehicle. Meanwhile, I thank the Lord God in Heaven for my SUV because the roads here are treacherous. Swishy snow atop ice - perfect driving conditions, no?
Anyway, my beloved White Lightening started and I waited for the kids to finish writing their little tests. Meanwhile, my guts were near-foundered from hunger (aka I was starving, for all of you people not from Newfoundland), and there were major discussions to be had before I left the building.
Discussions - go.
Tests - go.
Food - no go.
: - (
Grrr. Off into the cold Arctic freezer-burn-weather I go to get my mail and possibly something delicious to eat before I go home. I didn't make it very far because I was just too contrary. Chips were on sale for $2 so I bought two bags. Fine.
Chocolate, Ginger Ale, and Plain Wavy Lays for supper. I'm not complaining. Whatever.
If someone thinks I should be eating healthier meals, then someone needs to cook said meals for me. I'm just sayin'...
So I got home, plugged in my vehicle because it's -15 and no doubt it'll end up being -5000 before the night is done, and my hands were immediately frozen into claw-like figures.
ARGH.
This is painful and infuriating.
Why do I have to be Gargoyle Claws?
So I don't sleep all night and I have Owl Eyes, and then I get to have the ole Gargoyle Claws, too.
Attractive.
Beatin' the boys off with the sticks, I'm tellin' you.
(It's funny how phrases have changed so much that the meaning of something in my grandparents' generation has an entirely different meaning in my generation. If you think the above sentence was sexual, it wasn't, and that goes to show you're not old enough to read that sentence, so pretend you didn't see it.)
Back to the Claws... I plugged in the SUV, and grabbed my stuff and trudged off into the house. Well, into the backyard, and over the deck, and to the back door... because you know, I am Fred Penner/Batman, and nothing is ever really simple with me, is it?
When I got to the back door, the old Gargoyle Claws were still going strong, and the Sensor Light kicked in but went out because it was taking me so long to get the key in the lock.
ARGH.
So I would have to walk back a few feet to get the light on. I had to do this a couple of times.
The key was in the lock, but it wouldn't turn.
I would have laid my head against the door and cried, but I thought it might freeze there, and I would be a real whole Gargoyle.
Finally, with my bookbag in one arm, and the bag of chips pinched precariously in my fingertips, I got inside and made it to my door.
And dropped the chips. *sigh*
Frozen solid hands. I couldn't pick anything up - so I gave it a little tap.
With my foot.
Just a little tap, a kick, you might say.
Not a full-on soccer ball kick, but one that I may have used to usher something in the door. Like an unruly bag of chips.
Problem: the chip bag exploded everywhere. It actually gave me a bit of a fright.
In fact, I think the bag exploded in fear before my foot even touched it - a premature explosion, if you will.
Chips were everywhere, as you can see.
I forgot about my hands a little bit then because I was wondering what in the name of God got into those chips.
I knew what was going to get into those chips - a little white furry monster, for sure.
He had a field day. You know the rule, "Take what you touch" ? Well, Harley Barley the Maniac ran around and licked a lot of chips. He was very excited about the bounty on the floor.
When the chips are down, you have to make the best of it. Monster Lips sure did.
I saved what was left in the bag for my Party Lunch (aka not a real meal but I'm too lazy to make one so I'll pretend I am celebrating something) and scooped up the rest to throw away in order to save myself the trouble of scooping them up in the various other forms they would take as they digested through the Maniac's body.
So, now... chips, chocolate, coffee, liquer, and a collection of psychological essays on Dexter.
Makin' the best of it.
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