Winter, I’m talking about you.
My street looks like a band of one-eyed chimpanzees attacked it with broken shovels. Parking is worse than ever.
Wind chill advisory? Telling us a completely different temperature because that single digit one isn’t depressing enough?
Naming winter storms? Are they not newsworthy if they don’t have an actual name? And by the way, having lived in the Northeast all my life, I assure you, anything under a foot isn’t worth calling a storm.
Winter sports? Oh, screw that. Walking from car to door without busting my ass on snow or ice is the most sport you’ll get out of me.
Snow days? It has come to my attention that some companies allow their employees to opt to take snow days after we get dumped on. Well, who knew? Why isn’t this mandatory?
Outrageous heating bills. National Greed, I’m staring right at you. The added stress of a bill so utterly assinine is something no one needs. Assinine. We’re barely comfortable. I know people dropping their heat below 60 and freezing at night to try to cut that bill back a little. It’s like paying an exorbitant fee for heat we don’t even really have. Before you send my next bill, take me out to dinner someplace worthwhile first, ok?
Valentine’s Day? Doesn’t improve on February in the least.
Television? The good stuff is ending, there’s no more football.I’ve been stuck inside way too long and my hatred of Billy Fucillo, Flo, and everyone involved in any drug commercial ever, now knows no bounds.
At least there is still beer.