Guess I better keep this going :)

So.....how's everyone liking the weather?

I've always loved the snow. Problem is, I haven't had the chance to go play in it. The last...oh, about a week and a half has been spent lengthening my commute from roughly 50 minutes to giving myself an hour and a half.

Oh, by the way, that's EACH WAY. Yeah, driving from UP to up-the-hill Kent, as brutal as the daily slog can be in GOOD weather, has become damn near unbearable. I've received numerous texts from friends over this series of weather systems asking, suggesting, hell, even BEGGING me not to go in to work. I have two very important factors to consider every time this thought crosses my mind: 1) I've always been good at driving in the snow and ice, and more importantly, 2) single-income family. Me not going to work doesn't equal inability to pay rent [that's what Allie's job pays - free rent, gsw (I only put it that way for those familiar with that particular acronym in copspeak - gunshot wound - but in this case it means garbage/sewer/water), and yes, it does pay a small amount of cash each month on top of this], and thanks to Click recognizing she's the mgr, free cable. What it does equal is inability to pay bills and buy food. Those of you that know me personally, and I'm assuming the few reading this do, know that family is, was, and always has been very important to me. Therefore, I'm not afraid to drive carefully (with chains at the ready hahaha) through the slush, snow, and ice to provide for me and mine. I takes care of mine, son. Respek. Booyakasha.

That being said, I'll relate a little story to you. If you haven't noticed by now, this will probably be the most boring blog yet, but if you dig a little deeper and read a little further, those of you reading this that only know me as Watty from focuspoint will get (oh JOY) a further glimpse of who I am. I ended up spending Saturday night, the night of the blizzard/windstorm, at my good friend (and fellow worker) James' townhome a mile from our store. I am very fortunate not only to have a friend like James, but to have him live so close to our workplace and be kind enough to offer me a place to sleep whenever this sodded weather threatens my health. Thank you, James. We ended up eating three frozen pizzas between he, I, and another coworker that night while watching Iron Man. The next night, after about six further inches of snowfall, I decided that I must make my way home to see my wife and son....oh, and for a change of underpants. I ended up driving the 28 miles home at an average speed of 32 mph, even on the freeways. The comforting part was leading the procession of about 15 cars in the rightmost lane on I-5, all doing the same speed and giving each other the same berth, while the moronic douchebags in AWD/4WD vehicles (I'm INVINCIBLE!) blasted by us at 50-70 mph, blasting muck on our windshields every time. That wouldn't have been so bad had my fucking windshield wiper sprayers NOT BEEN FROZEN! In spite of all that nonsense, I made it home just fine, and without having to put my shiny-new-and-$60-a-pair chains on. I kissed my wife, slammed a few beers to staunch the adrenaline rush, spent some time looking upon my sleeping son, and slept a happy man.

The humor in this story lies in my commute to work yesterday afternoon. Seeing as it took me an hour and ten minutes to get home, I figured it'd be a good idea to leave at 1:00 pm for my 2:30 start time. I did this twice before in the last week, and all three times I ended up with the same conclusion.

I was over a half an hour early for work.

Needless to say, my store manager was pleased to see that I had made it to work, seeing as I had left him a note stating 'come hell or high water (or slush), I'm making it home tonight to retrieve said underpants' (yeah, the night prior he called me just before the end of my shift to implore me to stay at James').

So to recap: I'm good at driving in the snow, I care about my family, my friend James is a great man, Iron Man is a good movie, fellow car drivers love it when you know what you're doing (and hate it when you're a douchebag), showing up early to work is never a bad thing, and I'm the breadwinner of the family. Oh, and focuspoint is the best fucking band ever.

And since I've been pretty vanilla this entire post:

Shit piss fuck cunt cocksucker motherfucker tits (fart turd and twat).

We miss you, George Carlin. And a special thank you to Blink-182 for adding three more words to the list of "Seven Words You Can Never Say On Television," as well as turning it into a song called "Family Reunion." Listen to it, you'll get a kick. I'm sure Carlin has.

Merry Christmas, you guys. And although most, if not all, of my friends are Christians, happy Chanukah and Solstice (for my few pagan friends). I refuse to wish you a happy Kwanzaa, because all the black people I know think it's more ridiculous than I do. If you're gonna try to create a black holiday, do a better job. Side note - if I ever tried to create a white holiday, I'd be fucking shot. Think about that, Jesse Jackson. Maybe my next blog will be debating the effects of creating a white version of the NAACP. Don't get me wrong, I'm not in any way a racist or a white supremacist (I myself am not 100% white), I just think it's a bit fucked up that black people are allowed to celebrate (and shove in the face of others) their ethnicity while white people are condemned for it.

Ah, fodder for the masses.

And once again, "the fucking lines are open."

Later.