Tag Archives: jerk

Welcome to Winter Mr. Georgia

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First we had to find the car... What YOU got Mr. Georgia? Riiiiight. Nuthin. Now shut up. slow down and don't be a dink. Happy Winter!!

First we had to find the car… What YOU got Mr. Georgia? Riiiiight. Nuthin. Now shut up. slow down and don’t be a dink. Happy Winter!!

This morning we had to go get guinea pig supplies. Why? Because sometimes I do things that my own mother wouldn’t let me do when I was a kid just because…and my kid asked for a guinea pig for her birthday. I don’t particularly care for rodents, even chipmunks in the wild sort of creep me out all looking like they are tweaked out on meth…spazzy freaks. So, we went through a small blizzard to pick up these cracked out guinea pigs last night. Brothers. Swell. They came with a bowl of food, their cage, water bottle, igloo and bedding. Awesome. To make the trip even funner, the two 12 year olds decided that the No Singing In The Car Rule was no longer in effect and sang the same song over and over and over and over and over and over, loudly. Every once in a while they would scream/giggle as only 12 year old girls in a small car during a snow storm can do. Good times.

Did I mention it was a two hour drive round trip? And my tires are bald. And it was a blizzard. With two girls singing We Are Young like it was the anthem to their whole life. My eye is still twitching.

We got home, got in the house, where I promptly dropped the cage. Which means it was an instant guinea pig party. Bedding went everywhere and the pigs ran for cover under the table where the cats usually sit. Lucky for them the cats were busy harassing the dog. We corral the pigs, fix the cage, the twitching in my eye worsens and I call it a night.

But today is a new day. We hop in the car right after our snow plow guy comes and plows us out. We head to the animal store. I drive slow in the winter. I just do. Sometimes I put on my hazards and flip off anyone who dares to pass me. I have a fair amount of road rage on a good day. On a day when it is still snowing, the roads are shitastic and my tires are bald. I have no control over what comes out of my mouth. I took a turn and went sliding and swearing towards the curb. I manged to pull out of it and continue on down the small hill. Now listen, I know y’all are going to think I get what I deserve for driving around on bald tires. Well, I’ll give you that. In my defense, I have always had crappy cars with way worse issues than bald tires and I haven’t gotten my tax return yet so I can’t afford new tires. And what am I supposed to do? Let the guinea pigs starve? I know I know…I see the flawed logic. Suspend your judgments and just let me finish the story ok? Geeze.

I notice this douchebag behind me who is on my ass. Now, that makes me nervous because what if I slip again? What if the guy ahead of me starts to spin out? Doesn’t the douchebag know how to drive in the snow? Increase your distance, slow down, stay in control of your vehicle at all times. I was going slow, just under the speed limit but not outrageously slow. Just being safe really. It was in the village so I was doing maybe 30 in a 35 zone. Douchebag is so close I can see his douchy expression. Anyway, the road splits and I move into the left lane to take a turn at the light. He comes up next to me and looks at me with hate in his eyes. I guess he didn’t expect to see me there with bigger hate and bigger eyes. I gave him a look that said “You are giant moron douchebag and I have no doubt that your wife got the friends in the divorce and your kids hate you and your dog ran away because you are such a turd”. He slowly turned his big fat douchbag head back to the road ahead of him and I laughed to myself. Because I knew he wanted to give me some sort of feeling of shame by looking at me like I was doing something wrong. Instead, he got shamed. I mean really. It’s a freaking blizzard. Where you gotta be bro? Target?

As happens in this world of engineered roads and stoplights, we got to the red at the same time. Now, I am enjoying this because he is so obviously annoyed which makes me feel sort of giddy. I know that feeling of sheer aggravation towards another driver who is just not doing it MY way when clearly MY way is the RIGHT way. I know how he feels towards me and I am loving it!!! Because I also know that he is a ridiculous idiot just like I am when I pretend I am directing other drivers with my curse words and finger pointing. It is senseless and silly. And oh so satisfying when someone else is experiencing their moment of total impotence. I slowly turn my head and give him a look of absolute innocence and complete dipshityness. This ticks him off so badly he starts having a conversation with himself about my car, pointing and trying to convince himself that somehow my driving reasonably in seasonable weather is somehow making his life unbearable. I blink twice and smile like I am missing a few key synapses connections and the light turns green. He floors it and fishtails and almost 360’s but manages to hold it together to be the first to the next red light…As I calmly pull up next to him again, I see steam coming out of his ears and his lips have disappeared and his eyebrows have become one. Apparently, he REALLY needs to get to Target. Must be some sort of emergency? Maybe a hot date? A really good sale? He makes his turn to the right after mouthing some more of his one man monologue about his obviously superior driving skills and I take my left.

Listen Mr. Georgia Licence Plate Brand New Subaru, unless your wife is in advanced labor with a baby head hanging out between her knees or your mother is having a heart attack and is severely allergic to ambulance rides then you really, truly have no where important to be. Not in the middle of February in Central New York. You just don’t. Not when it is snowing like a mofo and the roads are ice, covered in snow, covered in ice, covered in evil. Stop driving like an ass. It’s winter in freaking Syracuse. There is absolutely no where you have to be. Or as they say in the south “Bless your heart, I hope you wound up in a ditch”.

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Spencer And The Snowstorm

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Happy Mutts

Happy Mutts

We got over a foot and a half of snow last night. Spencer is about a foot and a
half tall. So, when I let him out this morning he went sledding down the back
stairs and belly flopped into the snow where he was immediately covered by the
avalanche from the roof because I slammed the door. Oh it was funny!!! I laughed
and laughed at him!! He crawled out and walked in a circle 3 times and then
stood still. I assume he was peeing but all I could see of him was his head and
the top of his back. He may have just been contemplating the best revenge for me
laughing at him.

I was all ready to start snow blowing. I was still in my PJ’s but I had on my
scarf, hat, gloves and boots. I knew this was not going to be a fun project. My
car was buried and my driveway is on an incline. And it is single wide meaning
that only one car can fit down or up the driveway. I do have a turn around area.
I knew I would have to snowblow the turn around also because there was no way I
could back up and out of the driveway. Ok, so, now I was procrastinating,
wondering how a plow guy could do it…where I should start…wondering if my
neighbors will totally laugh at me snow blowing in my PJ’s and wondering if I
care if they do….Meanwhile, Spencer is doing his damndest to get back up the
stairs.

To his credit, he was trying to dig around where he thought the stair was. He
knew that I was going to be of NO help as I stood there giggling at him. He was
mumbling under his breath as he dug. But really, it’s not like he was going to
put his superior digging skills to use for MY sake. He was not going to help me
dig out the car. He finally realized that he does not have the ability to stand
on one stair and dig on the next, so he starts barking at me.

I did all the dumb things I did when he got himself stuck upstairs. I tried
encouraging him, I tried dragging him, I thought about trying to carry him. I
was trying to avoid shoveling. I had to have a goal if I was going to get thru
this snow hell and my goal was to not use a shovel, only the snow blower.
Spencer was not going to ruin my goal before I even got started. Who’s the
evolved one here? I went up the stairs kicking snow out of the way, now both of
us are muttering under our breath.

Spencer is back inside now and Emma, the smartest one in the family, had refused
to come out at all. She rather pee on the rug than slide down the stairs. Who
can blame her, really? Ok, now I am ready to snow blow. First task was to find
the snow blower which was buried completely under all the snow. I started
kicking and digging around where I think I had left it. Score! And it starts!!
So far so good! But this is really wet, heavy snow and I kept getting stuck. As
I have no upper body strength, I have to put my hips into it, with a rocking
motion. I am sure this looks like some fetish video. Being in my PJ’s with an
assortment of winter accessories on I think makes the entire thing hysterical.
Now, I am snow blowing, getting stuck, doing my snow blower dance and laughing
hysterically by myself.Oh and talking to the snow blower. It started stalling
out so I would then say “Come ON! You’re a snow blower, this is what you DO!
What you were built for!! You can do it! It’s your moment to shine!!!” It
crossed my mind to actually cross the street to the neighbors to see if they
were finding this as funny as I was…

I got one pass done and I turn around and there is Spencer, pooping on the
cleared 1 foot by 1 foot area of driveway. I was astonished to see him
there,looking right at me, pooping where I had just snow blowed. And he was
laughing too. Like that was his revenge. Whatever. I kept going which kind of
scared him. He didn’t know which way to go. He knew I was watching so he
shouldn’t go up the driveway, but that was really the only way to go as I hadn’t
snowblowed anything else yet. He turned in a few circles and then went up the
stairs and ran through the door, which had blown open. I was still laughing at
the hilarity of the situation. Me and my goofiness and Spencer and his choice of
space to poop. Ha ha ha!

My second thought was “I better remember the poop is there because I don’t want
to step in it or snow blow it and have poopcicles fly all over the yard. That
would be just my luck! That is what happened every time I used the weed wacker!!
Oh spring…I can’t wait till…POOP!!!!” And yes, not only had I snow blowed the
fresh poop, but then I stepped in it. Just in case you had ever wondered, dog
poop smell overpowers exhaust fumes. And apparently chilled fresh dog poop stick
to boots better than even room temperature dog poop. Pretty sure I didn’t
needed to know that. Spencer’s revenge was sweet, in a sense. No kids, that is NOT
chocolate snow…..