M: The picture and the audio are out of sync.
Z: Must be a faulty wire somewhere.
Enough with the romance, this post is clearly lacking some hate. Luckily, I can muster up some hate almost anywhere, anytime. Today I hate snow. We have tons and tons and tons and tons and tons and tons of it. It’s everywhere, and it’s especially there if there’s where you had planned to drive your car through. And I hate all the adjectives people use when describing snow. White. Pristine. Fluffy. Soft. Delicate.
Definitely not fluffy or soft, but I made it myself so you better have something nice to say about it.
Let me tell you, there is nothing white about snow unless you live in the country and travel by horse drawn sled, in which case the snow will still probably be more yellow than white. Anywhere else it’s brown or grey and looks a little like huge piles of you-know-what. And there is nothing fluffy and soft about snow. Try driving your car through snow that has melted once and frozen again. It’s like driving your car through rocks, shaped like fluffy snow. And let me tell you, it’s never fun to drive through rocks shaped like fluffy snow, because while they might look all nice and fluffy, they still have most of the original undesirable attributes of the rocks that look like actual rocks, like, for instance, the ability to scratch away paint from the surface of your car with little or no effort. And it just won’t stop coming down. Wherever I look there’s another cloud ready to puke its fluffy white guts out on Turku.
Don’t get me wrong, I like the general idea of snow, in theory. But I can’t help but notice that it seems like the execution generally leaves a bit to be desired. Snow really shouldn’t reside in the streets, for example. Likewise, rooftops are bad places for snow, because it will inevitably fall down and kill someone.
That’s right, snow kills. Think of that next time you whine about wanting a white Christmas. *