I just realized...

I just realized that the best weather of the year is during the week before my birthday.

White Wine Wednesday + Lightning Storm

It's Wednesday, Deb's off work, and it's payday.

Strong lightning storm, tornado sirens, the works.

# THERE'S A PROBLEM WITH THAT THING

"There's a problem with that thing."

"No there isn't."

"Yes there is. That thing is happening all the time. We could fix the problem. It would take a lot of work, but..."

"No. There isn't a problem. I do not see a problem."

"But what about X, Y, and Z? We need to fix this stuff. Something needs to change."

"Those are isolated incidents. They are not connected in any way. All circumstances and events exist in a vacuum."

"They are a trend. They are a symptom of a bigger issue."

"No they aren't. Can you give me a specific example?"

"A couple, but there are so many..."

"If you can't give me twenty specific examples, right now, off the top of your head, there isn't a problem. If you give me twenty examples, I'll ask for twenty-one examples."

"This Thing is a problem. It's complicated and involves..."

"I don't see it. It isn't affecting me, so it isn't a problem..."

"It's a problem."

"Do you have a specific solution, that you can describe completely, right now? Is it foolproof and perfect, as all plans are foolproof and perfect?"

"Well no..."

"See? Then there is no problem, and even if there was a problem, which there isn't, it can't be fixed because there is no perfect solution that is easy, and involves no sacrifice. No problem."

"But..."

"Nope. End of discussion. I have to go do things now. Also, booze now. I do not have time for this. Things are going well for me, so there is no problem. Booze now, and sports. Booze now?"

"Yes, booze I suppose."

~~~  LATER ~~~

"Can you believe that thing that happened on the news!? It is awful and terrible! This will briefly make me somewhat sad, for a few days, or hours!!"

"Yes. I can believe it. I don't see why you are surprised. It is part of the thing we were talking about the other day, these things are connected."

"No. There is no problem. That is not a real problem. We don't need to fix it, it isn't a problem."

"You don't see how that led to this?"

"No. It is another isolated incident. I have to go do things now that are important to me. Work stuff now. Booze later, and also, sports."

IT'S THE LAST DAY OF F.G.D.F.!

It's the last day of F#cking G_d D@#m  February. This motherf*cking G_d d#$m fncking month is over. Finally. This is the month that the illogic of an argument over a motherf*cking dress killed motherf*cking Mr. Spock. Actually killed him. Here's how his last few moments probably went:

"The vast technological communications network, that could be used to solve all the world's social ills, bring understanding to humanity, is being used to argue over the color of a motherf*cking dress? Humanity is moronic. This is so motherf*cking illogical, I no longer have the will to live."

And that motherf*cking killed him.

And the motherf*cking cold. How can it be so motherf*cking cold for som motherf*cking long? I ask you? How can anyone claim that we haven't broke the G_d d#$m motherf*cking atmosphere with this motherf*cking "polar vortex" bullshit lasting this long.

Motherf*cker. F#ck you February.

WEATHER CENTER, THIS IS BRAD...

"Weather Center, this is Brad, how may I help you?"

"I think your website is broken."

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience, could you tell me your name?"

"Dan. Look, I've checked the ten-day forecast for the past week, and the numbers aren't changing."

"Let me check the page.... let me see... it seems okay on this end."

"But the numbers, they're all similar, but those can't be real numbers. I cleaned out the cache. Is it pronounced 'catch,' or 'cash-ay?' anyway, I cleared out all my browser temp files, but these numbers are all negative and terrible, and they don't change."

"Sir, these are the real numbers."

"But can't you make them go up?"

"We only report the weather sir, we can't—"

"You can't do anything? For the love of God, you can't even try? You're the fucking Weather Center."

"Sir I assure you—"

"NO! No, you don't assure me. These aren't real numbers. This is insane! How long is this going to go on? What are you people doing? There's nothing you can do? Cloud seeding or whatever the hell the farmers do?"

"Sir, this is an unusually cold winter, but again, I can assure—"

(sobbing, line disconnects)

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"Is there a @#$%ing window open in here?"

"Is the heat off? Why is it so much colder in here?"

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Wear A Hat

I saw a guy riding a bike out in this weather, on these icy roads, and all I could think was:

"Sir, you need to put on a hat."

Because he wasn't wearing a hat. You need to wear a hat out in this stuff. Its friggin' dangerously cold out there.  Put on a hat, dude.

You know that picture of the guy in Vietnam (or Cambodia, or wherever) getting shot in the head? And the photographer snapped the picture right when the guy pulled the trigger to shoot the guy in the head?

The guy on the bike looked like that dude. He looked that miserable.

Put on a hat. Jeez.

Scraping Ice, Thinking Chess

Scraping ice from the driveway, thinking about chess.

MOBIUS DRIVEWAY

Every snowflake is unique and special.
Every driveway is unique and special.
Every snow shovel is unique and special.
Every shovel full of snow is unique and special.

The Mobius Driveway is a driveway in which no matter what end you start shoveling, you never reach the end, because by the time one end is shoveled, the other end is full of snow.