But six.
Six people.
On skis.
While I shoveled my way out of the record snowfall that hit our region the previous night, Wednesday, I counted six people joyfully sliding along the jogging trail that runs behind my home.
Skis.
This was no desperate attempt to get to the store. This was no emergency run to the hospital in the post-blizzard conditions. They walked down the street, saddled up at the trail and were off, shushing past everyone else who was digging out.
I hate people.
Futue te ipsum
Go fuck yourself
Te fututo, gaudeo
You having been fucked, I rejoice
It's a blog. Where we bitch about stuff. Read it or go away.
Everything here copyright 2008, WoS
| Mon | Tue | Wed | Thu | Fri | Sat | Sun |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| << < | Current | > >> | ||||
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | |||
| 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |
| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 |
| 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 |
| 26 | 27 | 28 | ||||