Well, maggots, I can’t get out of the freshly snow-covered driveway. The car wants to go sideways down the hill, which would be a feasible enough way to get out if not for the other cars parked below me.
It’s probably just as well that I am housebound, because I feel a good bout of incoherence coming on. I woke up from a disturbing dream that we had purchased the newest Apple product: a living organism that starts out as a carnivorous plant, and once you re-pot it, you get something like a Tasmanian devil. We quickly found ourselves wondering why the hell we bought this vicious thing, and it ended up running off and living under our neighbor’s house. From time to time, we’d see it in the yard, catching snakes. When it started to bite the neighbor’s children, we decided we had to kill it, so we spent several days sneaking up and luring it with raw steaks and chicken breasts, planning to set it on fire.
It didn’t work, and then next thing you know, I was in a KMart shopping for discount tinsel garlands. I was forced to do the Jumble in the paper to get the full discount. Doing the Jumble in your dream is probably the worst thing that can possibly happen. I hope you never experience this. I actually bored myself awake.
Then I called some senators and left messages about torture. It was easy and fun. Not torture, the calling. Press-a the buttons, hello, hello. They HAVE to be nice to you. You can get more details here: The Biscuit Report.
I am off to shovel, all OCD-like. I don’t actually shovel so much as delicately dust with a spare pastry brush. The house boy has the day off. And this box of Twinkies won’t eat itself.