frosty ride

did i say i missed winter? i must have been fucking high.

yesterday afternoon E and i rode for an hour-forty. lulled by tuesday's shorts-worthy temps, i totally underdressed for yesterday's sub-zero windchill. by the time we were rounding about to come back home, our cheeks were little mounds of numb and we slurred at each other like a couple professional drunks.

- fush it i can't feel my toves anymur. do you fing they're still ver?

- num num norgl numming yee.

- yu soun like paula abnul. hur hur hur.

- hur hur fush yuyu fushing fush.

my ass was hyena-red when i lept into the shower, and my toves were bone-white. afterward i donned 3 wool sweaters and huddled next to the radiator in the guest room. the dog came to investigate the smell of burning wool but didn't bring me any hot chocolate. some "working breed" he turned out to be, mr. sorry excuse for a border collie.

sanitation won, in the BMJ poll to assess the most signif medical advance since 1840. i think that's a load of crap, or i just hang out with the wrong people. if sanitation's so important, why does someone keep shitting on the toilet seat on the 4th floor, and why does it stay like that for days?