I officially live in a winter wonderland.
This weekend’s storm dumped about 6 inches on Minneapolis, which Gertrude loved.
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I officially live in a winter wonderland.
This weekend’s storm dumped about 6 inches on Minneapolis, which Gertrude loved.
Let’s just say it took a long time to get home.
I had a suit on today because of a tax clinic meeting. I still had this suit on when I left work, so there I am, tie and loafers, excavating the car with snow flying everywhere.
I considered placing the bulldog statue I have at work with this gem:
I thought about it for longer than I’d like to admit, but I remembered the #1 rule of retail and resisted: if you’re not thrilled about a purchase, you probably don’t need it.
Now, I’m sure this is just a guy delivering phone books:
But I see a ton of junked-up cars in my neighborhood which remind me of the people on A&E’s Hoarders show.
It is Saturday night and my car glides through traffic on 494. Whip my Hair is on the radio and I am excited about tonight’s date. Things are awesome.
The awesomeness ends approximately 15 minutes later when I open my apartment door and get smacked by the smell of rotten eggs. Harley is sick and yarked everywhere.
I manage to clean up the copious amounts of yolk-like vomit, take the dogs out, drain the building boiler, and get dressed within 25 minutes. I am not going to be late for this date, dammit!
So of course, when I open the door to leave, I hear “BLARRG!”
Winter smacked down during these past two weeks.
I enjoyed one last day at the lake and then Minneapolis got a foot of snow in an epic snow storm.
Let’s just be real: the whole point of having dogs in Minnesota is watching them slide on ice.
Nathan and I leave Pagoda and get on the highway to the movie theater. There is a light rain. Traffic is horrible.
We sit in traffic for a while before we see the accident: one car smashed into a metal barrier, front crumbled, airbags deployed. Two goofy-looking teens stand next to the car in the rain.
Ahead is a SUV facing the wrong direction in the middle of the road. The driver is a frantic-looking blond girl. Traffic moves around her car on the shoulder.
I’m towards the end of a Lake Calhoun dog walk and run into a man who stares me down. I avoid eye contact, but to no avail:
Creeper: “Nice dogs!”
Me: “Thanks.”
I keep walking. He catches up.
There’s usually a moment on my dog walks where I almost hang Harley in an attempt to prevent him from eating goose poop.
Ick.
Today I tried a new tactic: the epic flip-out. And it worked! Harley dove for a piece of goose crap and violence ensued.1 I try not to get animal abuse-y, especially in public, but it was totally worth it because Harley wouldn’t even look at the poop after that.
I took them on a second walk around lake Calhoun this evening and had no issues. Great success. And yes, I plan on doing the same thing if my future children even get NEAR goose crap. Hide yo kids, hide yo wife.
I dread parking in the Salon parking lot.
There is a parking lot attendant who always creepily compliments my haircut when I pay. He makes me uncomfortable and I have a hard time understanding his thick-Somali accent. He makes me feel as if I’m in some sexual-harassment training video.
It’s supposedly going to snow tomorrow, so I took the krakens around the lake one last time.
More randomness around Minneapolis:
University of Minnesota tuition protest posters still cake campus:
I miss the good old days when you actually had to download something to get a computer virus. I’m on google images when the Java program starts and suddenly these fake antivirus-program-looking windows pop up and completely disable my non-school laptop.
Despite last week’s freeze, it’s still fall:
