Friday, January 21, 2011

Twelve Rounds With Mother Nature

Hey, Mutha Nature?  Wat up beyotch?  I keep hearing all over the television that you women of a certain age have tight and unyielding bowels (just ask Jamie Lee Poo Poo Yogurt). So why then, do you continue to "dump" the snowy contents of your intestines all over the greater NYC area  on a weekly basis?  Spike the Hotness Monster has had to to dip the former home of his manly nuggets in a snow bank to do his business for the past three weeks.  Every day I find him hanging from the side lights of our front door like a striped cat-sicle (see figure 1 below).

Your latest offering, bestowed upon us this morning, has gifted us with a delay in school opening and the delightful prospect of trying to drive to work in this mess.   At this point, I am thinking that you are going out of your way to harsh my gig.  One only needs to look back at your first snowstorm of the season, in which you inconveniently shat two feet of snow on our little town, the night before we were scheduled to leave for Atlantic City.   You underestimated me though, as while it took a little longer than planned to get there, my rump still managed to be parked at (alternatively) a bar stool and slot machine the following night.   Don't test me, bitch. 

Bitter and resentful of your inability to stop my own personal fun train, you gave us another two feet two weeks later.  This was obviously the result of some kind of menopausal midweek bender.  Tsk. Tsk.  A woman of your "maturity" should know that we don't process the booze as elegantly as we did in our twenties.  The result of this petulant act?  A snow day for the kids and a sanctioned work from home for me.  Ha! In your facial, harpy!

Today however, you might have me over a barrel.  School has a delayed opening and there's not enough snow not to go into the office, but there is enough to make getting to the office dangerous and slow going.  Well I'm here to tell you that it isn't over between you and me.  You may knock me down with this round, but you can't knock me out.  And remember, I took the first two rounds and there are many more left in the season.

My prediction?  One of us will face the spring on crutches, missing a couple of teeth.  My recommendation? Better put your dentist and your orthopedist on speed dial.

11 Your comments, banter and witty repartee:

Rachel said...

Poor's too cold to poop!

The Empress said...

Heehee. we are on the same wavelength. I've got the same thing going on at my place today...3 degrees!!!

linlah said...

It's sunny and 58 here today so I totally sympathize with you.

Lin said...

What??! Poor Spike doesn't have a warm and toasty litter box in the house??? Poor kitty!

DG at Diary of a Mad Bathroom said...

Rachel - Do you know that I only seen him poop once in the 12 years that we have him? He is a stealth pooper.

Empress - Bitter cold. Just what you want after a metric crap-ton (that's a technical term) of snow. 12 degrees here. Weeee!

Linlah - 58 degrees? We won't see that until April.

Lin - Nope. That's been the deal with the Spiker since he crawled out from under my mom's shed - poop outside, sleep and eat inside. I don't have the right stuff to be a kittly litter cleaner - too squeamish.

Cadywax said...

Mutha Nature is not deterred, nor frightened in the least by your comments. In fact, her apologist and propagandist--the National Weather Service, has informed us that she will be shatting another significant amount on you this coming week. It seems that Mutha Nature blows her nose at you and farts in your general direction. What are ya gonna do about that DG?

DG at Diary of a Mad Bathroom said...

Cadywax - Way to support a friend. What am I gonna do? Make sure that your next week your shovel breaks mid-scoop.

Linda Medrano said...

Dang girl! What is a hot woman like you doing in a place like that? I hate cold and I hate snow. But where I live it's partly sunny and 67 every day. You might be bored.

DG at Diary of a Mad Bathroom said...

Linda - It's the price of doing business in NY. We freeze in the winter, swelter in the summer and are rewarded with a glorious spring and fall.

Sara said...

Mother Nature is a cranky old bat who needs to get laid.

Perhaps if we hooked her up with Father Time, we'd all get a decent reprieve.

DG at Diary of a Mad Bathroom said...

Sara - Very sharp thinking. Let me get the old coot on the phone and see if he's looking to be set up

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