Lots of Monkeys

Snow day.

But if you’ve been keeping up with the weather in the region, you’ll find that even those of you with, “grown up jobs” probably got the day off as well. It’s been snowing continuously for what feels like at least, forty-eight hours. There’s a foot and a half of snow on my window ledge. I look out the window, and it’s still snowing. It’s supposed to keep snowing until tomorrow morning. Tomorrow morning!

I haven’t seen this much snow since ’93.

Even the very crux of our consumerist society, the shopping mall, is closed.

Staring out the window I see more cars on Connecticut than I should. Not just emergency vehicles and snowplows, but just plain cars.

People: Stay home. What’s so important out there? Read a book. Play some video games.

I hate all of you. Odds are, if you are a person, I hate you. No offense. There are a scant few exceptions, but for the most part I hate people.

I know you hate people too. You’ve encountered them. They stand on the left. They take thirty items into the fifteen items or less lane. They drive in the HOV by themselves. They type in all caps and misspell words by adding numbers. They send you email claiming “larger, firmer breasts 100% naturally.” They call during dinner. They call too early. They don’t call. They get your name wrong, even though you’ve told them what it is. They ask you where you’re from and then say, “No, really.”

So yeah, don’t take it personally, but I hate you all.

Except for you.

I suppose you’re okay.

Note:I don’t really hate you. Aw come on. Oh great, here comes the lip.

This is a bit much.

I understand the whole “innovation” in music thing, but a six hundred thirty-nine year piece of music is a little long. To put this into perspective–supposing that I have children at some point–my great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great grandchildren might hear the end of this piece.

My other question is, “Are they recording this for posterity?” Because honestly, it would be a damn shame if no one else were able to partake of this piece of musical history.

So, we were sitting in a car, listening to some crappy radio station when Sophie B. Hawkins’s, “Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover” comes on.

gnicklaser: Ah, the reason I remember this song is because the video was just her laying in bed wearing nothing but a blanket. It was sexy.
PraxisLoki: I wasn’t aware that Sophie B. Hawkins was sexy.
FuriousGeorge: Sophie B. Hawkins was sexy?
gnicklaser: She was, for a fourteen year old boy.

(Awkward pause)FuriousGeorge and PraxisLoki: Sophie B. Hawkins was a fourteen year old boy?
gnicklaser: I meant when I was a fourteen year old boy.
FuriousGeorge: Paging Dr. Freud!!

Ah, grammar.

For those of you playing the home game, I did complete everything that I planned to do yesterday. In fact, I was an over achiever and got about two more things done than I had planned!