Blue skies, wispy clouds, birdies, & 63°.
On December 21st.
Now that's more like it but where's the damn snow?
Even trees get arthritis.
DOOM BUT WHERE'S THE FUCKING SNOW?
Police Memorial Way?
Voting? The Boz?
Like I said, DOOM BUT WHERE'S THE FUCKING SNOW?
Chortle, guffaw, wheez. [ed. note: in the interest of disclosure, said grade school humor cannot this time be pinned upon the lapel of the Duchess]
Cliffs 'em all.
Had a smarmy comment, but the killbots threatened to turn us over to Homeland Security, which, if you'll recall, isn't too far down the road.
Why the hell not?
Why the hell not.
Since the dawn of time, obligatory Simpsons allusion.
Fly, my pretties, fly.
Devlin better not try & take my vino.
Is it safe? Is it safe? It's safe, it's very safe.
A lotta bit corporate, a little bit rock &/or roll.
Rocker &/or roller-er.
Not very good, I checked. Color me gobstopped, everlastingly.
Damn you, foot.
Damn you, Duchess's foot.
Woodland fauna, come join us in giving rain the finger.
Snow you sometime? Magic 8-ball says try again later.