Don’t Eat Yellow Snow

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Worst copyright-infringement misuse of Bambi. Ever.

So I tried sitting outside this morning with my favorite big, heavy blanket and my damn-near-overflowing Animal mug, but damnit, it was too fucking cold, web dwellers. And you know why? Because it fucking snowed. Again. My girlfriend, Penny, is thrilled: “We’re going sledding with the kiddos! We’re making snow angels! Every snowflake is one of God’s special miracles!” Yeah. Fine. It’s pretty. But the rest of that is bullshit.

First of all, snow is fucking cold. And cold is BAD. People die from being too cold. Did you know if you spend time outside when it’s too cold, your lungs can freeze? Yeah. You fucking like that? Me either. So I don’t go out in the damn snow if I can help it. But of course, I have minions, so I do have to go out in the snow sometimes, but only when there isn’t a lung-freeze warning in effect.

Our snow angels NEVER look like angels.

As for Penny sledding with her minions, this is a completely different activity when you’re a single parent. Someone always has to drag the sled back up the hill. And it’s never a freaking kid. And without a spouse to take turns with you, Mama is always dragging the sled and listening to minions whine about whose turn it is.

And then there’s the fact that it takes a damn hour and a half to get two minions all suited up just to go outside, and by the time you’re done zipping and buttoning, someone always has to pee. Which is only a problem if you have girls, because apparently, somewhere along the line, no matter how rarely they’re in the snow with their dads, boys learn that it’s fucking hilarious to write their names in the snow with their own special yellow markers.

Ours look more like something this guy makes upon passing out from eating too many burritos.

What’s left? Oh, snow angels. Yeah, that’s also a load of crap. My minions flopped down to make snow angels and here’s what I got: “Mom!!! I’m stuck!!!” and “Owwwww!! There was a rock under there!!” and “Hey! You’re wrecking the end of my name!!” Yeah. Ew.

So, yeah. Snow is not my favorite. Plus, I refuse to pay more for heat than I do for my mortgage each month. I used to hate it when my dad said, “Put on a sweater,” when I complained about the cold as a kid, but now I do the same damn thing to my minions. I tuck them in at night in their fleece footie jammies and cover them with extra blankets so they’re toasty warm without the heat having to be cranked up for 10 hours, and I make them wear sweaters and slippers and socks during the evenings. While this is good for my wallet, it’s not good for my nights with Northman. There’s something seriously unsexy about Skyping with someone who’s bundled up like an Eskimo, but he’s just going to have to deal with it because, as I said, it fucking snowed. Again.

Other than not getting to see Thing One and Thing Two (nor my Cat In The Hat for that matter) very much via webcam this week, Northman is good. No, that’s an understatement. Northman is great. He’s funny and sexy and able to evoke a physical response from the aforementioned cat just by texting me a single sentence. Damn I cannot wait to get my hands on that man. But not here. Because it’s fucking freezing, and I have no intention of wearing much clothing when Northman and I get together. Plus, my minions are here, and not even Northman gets to sleep over with my minions around.

Alright. That was short as my posts go, but y’all are on your own tonight. Northman and I were sexting a story together yesterday and got interrupted, and I promised him I’d sit down and write the whole story from start to spectacular finish. So, yes, I love you, web dwellers, but Northman was naked when he asked for this, and what Northman asks for naked, Northman gets. I’ve got some porn to write.

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