So I pour a nice Belgian style, clean up a little detritus about the box, and decide to write a small spiel here … talk about how the weather’s making everything better than bearable (which is what it kind of plateaus at halfway through the winter here … survival, existence, not necessarily life), how people seem friendlier, or at least I do … and how I’m sitting here listening to the new Malkmus / Jicks CD … so I go to write and notice Cooley has written pretty much the same thing for the day.
So fuck it. Instead, I’m going to talk about how this weather’s a fucking tease … it’s going to get worse before it gets any better, I’ll tell you that much. Look at Colorado today … getting fucking 3 feet of snow … and if it doesn’t get worse here, it’ll just turn into a detestable mudpit, thus giving us yet another thing to complain about, more kindling for the Ubiquitous Conflagration of Complaining About Where You Live (UCOCAWYL).
It’s always fucking something.