Yes yes, as you might have expect I’m going to bitch about the assinine snow clearing in my neighbourhood (this word DOES have a U in it thank you very much.) The snow fell AGAIN two days ago (5th of March), indicating that a) winter would not be letting up any time soon, b) my snow shoes were clearly no longer waterproof, c) it’s time to buy a new car, and d) people in my area (or arrondisments as they’re calling it now — wankers went and merged the whole city together for what? Unified services (i.e. no services) like snow clearing would be at their best) are wankers just like the people who control the snow clearing vehicles.

Ok, so it snowed not 4 days after they cleared the snow, and I’ve already gotten a ticket from the asswipes, so why can’t they just keep their engines warm and get on with it and move the snow away from my car. The only vehicles that were on the road were the sidewalk clearers, and while that’s very nice if enjoy watching the city’s money being pissed away clearing sidewalks that are already clean because they were too slow in the first place so everyone cleaned the sidewalks themselves, but I don’t. And they’re assholes too. I was turning a corner (on foot no less because my car was stuck in the fucking snow) and narrowly missed being flattened by one of these metal beasts moving at 50 km / hr (we’re metric here, so get over it and convert already. Your football fields will still be in yards…)

Yesterday there was no where to park because piles of snow blocked most of the regular parking spaces, in addition to that we couldn’t park on the left side of the road since we’d gone past due and it was then March 6. I parked in front of the restaurant again, making triple sure that there were no snow clearing signs…and there were none at all that I could see, but that didn’t stop them from trying to shove a ticket so far up my ass the ink reflected backward on my retinas, last time.

A quick search through the fridge this morning–after my morning shower and a good wank–revealed that there was nothing to eat except food that was producing its own penicillin…I momentarily pondered toasting the bread before my life flashed before my eyes.

It was a good one this time. I was being rolled through the triage of a hospital emergency ward frothing at the mouth–my eyes gently rolling back into my head, and then returning to their original positions–each corner they turned wreaked havoc on my stomach. I could feel the acid coming up my throat. And then the bile came spewing forth burning everything I could see: men, women, dogs, lights, doors. I stumbled off the gurney and ran outside still puking my guts out. Everywhere I turned and looked I could see the biles of my system, all colours and all flavours…would this end?

Of course I opted out of that scenario, but the temptation to add another hospital card to my collection kept me borderline for about 30 mintues as the open fridge door dried me off.


I get dressed and go down to the car for a quick breakfast outting, only to find that not only during the night have the sidewalk cleaners nearly entirely buried my car in snow, but some wanker has DOUBLE PARKED ME INTO THE SNOWBANK. There’s no fucking way out! What the hell am I supposed to do now? Wearing my very shitty snow shoes I trek to the car, open the trunk, find my shovel and start to dig. This is pure wankery of the 3rd kind (the 2nd and 1st are unimportant right now.)

My car was far from hidden it was in plain view. The roof was unmarred by snow or ice, and the hood and Toyota emblems were visible. So what gives? Why of all times now? I’m hungry, I need food. Shit. The only option I could see was to dig myself out from behind and back the car up into the adjacent street.

So I dig.

And dig.

And dig.

Some decrepit old woman who looks like she might turn to dust if the wind picked up appears and starts ragging on me for throwing snow on the sidewalk. I’m thinking Decrepit old woman, I’m hungry, I’m pissed off and you smell like Ben Gay, fucking leave me alone. Those bastard sidewalk cleaner’s should be around any second now.. She just turns and walks away yammering something about how the whole country was going to hell because of people like me, and that I should be lucky they let me in and what now…of course it was then that I realized I probably didn’t think the previous words so much as say them.

No matter, the ball of ice with which I nailed her in the back of her head, knocked her down and shut her the fuck up right away. I couldn’t take this snow shit any more.

Some thirty minutes later my car is dug out of the snow, but will it move? There’s about 10cm of snow underneath the car and my car is maybe 14 cm off the ground…not necessarily enough clearance in this weather. Who knows what gnomes are living underneath the car tying it to the ground. Still I foolishly get in and try to reverse out of the parking are without hitting the fucking bastard who’s double parked next to me.

I rock the car back and forth. I get out and push it from side to side. I get back in and continue to rock the car. The ice beneathe car starts to melt. Finally a good samaritan comes to help me out. I get in, he pushes, and another 30 minutes later the car breaks free, and I’m backed up into the street. Poor bastard is covered with snow, ice and whatever ground up little gnomes look like. As I’m getting ready to head to the grocery store for my breakfast supplies. The wanker that had been double parked shows up and gets in his car. Surely he noticed my car on, me in it, me ready to jump out and beat the tar out of his Honda Civic with the board with a nail in it I keep in the boot. Surely he noticed right?


He floored outta there like he had some mad diarrhea and there was no way he was letting loose the rivers of mud in public. He needed to be home, and I needed to follow him and beat his head in. Conveniently he headed in the direction of the grocery store. Stop light after stop light I edged up to him. At one point I got beside him, rolled down my window and managed to gob on his passenger side window.

He did pick up the speed, and I would have caught him too had my stomach not grumbled the impossible grumble, and started to eat my kidneys and my pancreas, forcing me to stop at the grocery store. I got out and cursed him out very loud, terrifying many of the grocery store patrons. I truely needed to vent. The yelling just wasn’t ventillation enough.

So I went to the breakfast cereal isle, punched a hole in a box of Lucky Charms, sat down on the floor and ate them until I was thrown out.

Unlucky for them.



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