It's 6 friggin' degrees out this morning!
The weather here on the Eastern seaboard of the USA has been crazy. It's appropriate. This past week revealed that our President is. Oh, that bunch in the White House is gona get us all killed, or badly injured. So, pay your bills. Nothing like being current when the ax drops because what if by chance the annihilation gets called off?
It's 6 friggin' degrees this morning!
It's been colder than a witch's tit in a tin bra since since last Thursday. Why? Because this thing called a "Bombcyclone" rolled in, deposited a over a foot of snow in lots of places, and then left in its wake, unconscionable cold. The Polar Vortex. The "Bombcyclone." The first word sounds like a thing on a "Star Trek" episode. The second one sounds like a word cobbled together by a hipster while he/she drank his/her soy latte with a half-caf twist with hints of leather at the kitchen table he/she "bartered for" in their re-habbed, three-story, row home in the gentrified section of that previously poor, mostly non-White 'hood.
It's 6 friggin' degrees this morning!
Pardon my rancor. No, wait a minute. Don't. If I hurt your feelings...Good! Try being uncomfy. It's called life. No refunds. No reassurances. No sure things. It's a crapshoot. Life. There are no warnings to alert you that something might "trigger" you. No. Trigger? That's just what's gonna happen today. You cannot plan for it. You cannot brace yourself for it.
Yep. Life is a beautiful bitch of a "bombcyclone" that sometimes feels like 6 friggin degrees. Just wish it had kissed me first.
Oops! But then I'd be breaking one of those "brace yourself" rules.
SIX FRIGGIN DEGREES! .
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