trudge trudge trudge trudge

trudge trudge trudge trudge
shovel your side walks moth er fuck ers

One problem with abandoned buildings is that no one takes care of the sidewalks. How's it goin' over there, Flint?

At least the trudging makes for a nice rhythm. I used to compose limericks on the frigid walk from MSU to the What's Up. Da-da-trudge da-da-trudge da-da-trudge (or, with the amphibrach, da-trudge-da da-trudge-da da-trudge-da. Meter choice depended on how icy it was.).

PS - in case anyone wants to know how cool I am, I chopped off a piece of my thumb yesterday while making dinner. Like, totally off. Had to find the little piece before continuing to sauté. Dear self: WRONG. THE ONIONS ARE WHAT YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE CUTTING. And boy, did that hurt! All those nice oniony sulfates finding their way past my integumentary system! But that wasn't the end of it. And so we find Entry 1 in the "this is how cool I am" category: I can say "Dinner last night went wrong in so many ways" without any irony. I rock so hard.