Well you little son of a bitch, what's it going to be? Hmm? Do we get a timely and much needed Spring or will this miserable wet weather never end?
Half the country is buried under record snowfalls, but many of the lucky ones in those otherwise deadly urban traps will walk to local bars, and the rest of them should know to have ample stores of hooch at home. Keep the faith, folks.
For the last few weeks, we've bundled and medicated all in order to consume whiskey and drink as many strong beers as possible. Regardless of what the rat does in Pennsylvania tomorrow, this weekend is the Super Bowl, so we can all eat well then laugh at the expensive commercials. It's a sign of hipness and a badge of honor to show up Monday at work and still slightly reek. It's in the national character.
Once that holy of holy days is in the books however, yours truly is ready for warmer weather. St. Patrick's Day will loom large, as it always does in Knoxville(seriously, check out the Old City and Downtown that afternoon, you'll be surprised in the participation). Then come April, it's time for the fantastic street festival affectionately known as the Rossini Festival. Mackey has elaborated on that happy-as-shit fun time in previous entries, so maybe I will spell him and write this year's account. In the meantime, I'll continue to freeze my ass off...and pay attention to that gopher lookin' prick.
Heheh, the SOB didn't see his shadow. C'mon Springtime.
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