Not quite a snow day
Why is Tinkerbell’s name used to call someone a homosexual? I mean, I get that she’s a fairy and all, but Tinkerbell is fucking sexy! Why would you call a guy Tinkerbell unless you were really attracted to him? That’s like saying yeah, he’s a little bit of a Salma Hayek. Oh yes…oh, yessss, he isss….
Seriously, look at this bitch:
That fucking blonde hair pulled up, those big, wide eyes… Those beautiful, smooth thighs and that little ultra-mini that she wears. My god, how many porn stars come to mind just looking at her? Jenna Haze, Lindsey Meadows, Gauge, Aurora Snow…
Anybody who calls someone “tinkerbell” secretly wants to slide his cock into those eager, ruby lips and listen to the desperate flap of gossamer wings as she takes it deep.
But enough about that! Let’s talk about snow. DC’s first winter storm. One to three inches of death! I love the snow. Largely because I never drive in it, which is important in DC. This city shuts down if too many people just say ‘snow’ at one time. I’ve been charting the highly artificial panic for years in the forums.
The one ritual that is starting to fade is the ridiculously long list of school closings on the radio. I love waking up to the announcer rattling off closings and delays. It’s sort of like watching planes leave and wondering where they’re going. The announcer gets into all these weird, far-flung counties out in the mountains of western Maryland, down in the commuter hell of southern Maryland, and over in the Satanic east. Virginia counties are always a mystery, as well. “And in Kill Black People County, schools are closed. Except for black schools, which are open without bus service and children aren’t allowed to wear coats.”
Then the long list becomes muddled with colleges, universities, and weird ass private schools. Oh! Evening kindergarten at Our Lady of the Hopeless Impotence is closed! And no evening classes at Countess Spanks-a-lot’s lodge? Damn.
Nowadays, most announcers cover the big counties around DC, and then tell you to go online for all the shit. Which is annoying. The closings and delays announcement takes them about 20 seconds now as opposed to a mind-bending five minutes or so where, because you tuned in after your location was announced, leaves you on edge. Areweclosed areweclosed ohmygod!!
We don’t get much snow these days, though. Three inches is a big deal. But, when I was a kid, it wasn’t unreasonable to expect at least one storm that resulted in a foot of snow, and we got a few blizzards.
Ever since the Rapture, it’s been a lot warmer around here. But real estate prices are down, so it’s a fair trade. But I do miss those big storms. The snowbound days in the house watching repeats and sipping hot cocoa.
Except I don’t remember them that way because mom was a violent drunk and I was victimized by neighborhood bullies Ganon and Marek Rich. Aren’t those awesome bully names? I’ve long been suspicious that I’m not real and am, in fact, a semi-self-aware character in a Highlights magazine.
Ganon and Marek were fucking assholes and I really hope they’re leading sad lives today. If they aren’t, then please let me know what I can do to make it harder for them.
During the biggest snowstorm in DC history since black and white photographs, I dug out a whole bunch of tunnels and crawled around pretending I was in the Viet Cong and killing all of my neighbors. I think I was about ten or so, and I’m actually surprised I didn’t get trapped and die in the tunnels. If I’m recalling correctly, we had about three to four feet, and then the snowplow piled up a huge wall in front of the house (where the tunnels were).
Well, Ganon and Marek just couldn’t leave me alone as I happily played on my own and imagined the streets running with the blood of my neighbors, the dog walkers, and the other children. They came along, beat me up, then destroyed the tunnels. And, once inside, mom told me to man up and called me a tinkerbell.
Which is where my confusion began because, even at ten, I wanted to fuck the shit out of that glittering fairy bitch.