The ice that somebody dumped in the Rhino courtyard after an event isn't going anywhere. No, those cubes are sitting happily, fully formed and almost sentient, like they're about to take on some kind of creepy ersatz life, like Frosty, only more debauched. Ice Cube Guy, a demented creature built of cubed ice, lurching around looking for a nice rum drink to bury itself in. No luck, Icey, no, sorry, Ice, Ice, baby - we're drinking hot toddies and rum and hot chocolate, curling up on the couch under a sleeping bag, spending the majority of our paychecks on heating oil (fuck, that hurt too) and in general hoping something resembling spring hits soon.
Fuck February. Fuck days where it's 24 degrees when I get to work and 20 when I leave. I don't recall signing on for the Yukon.
However, Ashevillains are getting out. N & I tried to go see Casino Royale at the Brew N' View and it was sold out & the place was packed. Then we went to Burgermeister, which was great, but also jammed full of people. Why aren't they all at home huddled around a blow dryer like sane folk?
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