It’s got that whoo whoo.

If you live under a rock and hadn’t noticed, the world has turned to ice. Sure, it may look like a Thomas Kinkade painting of a snowy village, but don’t let the painter of light (lame) fool you. That shit is a piece of ice. One, solid, big, fuck-off, shiny one. And it wants your blood.

In other news, I decided that I deserved a home cooked meal last night. So, I made bangers, mash, shallot gravy, baked beans, and asparagus. It was better than whatever you had. I can guarantee it. Or your money back.

I mean, just look at it:

Yeah. Not even a box of TMNT mac-n-chee could beat that.

Why did I deserve such a lavish meal? Because I am a grown-up. And I busted my ass purging Holliday Island of unwanted clutter. The sad part is that I barely scraped the surface of the sheer volume of shit I need to get rid of. Unfortunately, I have already filled up my trash can and there is no telling if the garbage men will work today. Looks like it is trips to the carwash’s dumpster.

Needless to say, I will probably be trapped in the house most of today, so it is back to purging and cleaning for me. Hopefully, the roads will clear up enough for Pathfinder tonight. But I’m not holding my breath.

First thing, though, I’m going to go take an ice nap. Grown-up.

See ya’ tomorrow.

More soon. ~SC