brontosaurus’ big night out

It snowed here – a lot. Then it got warm – a lot. And all the snow melted, leaving only a few awkward gray lumps where enormous piles once stood. A particularly disgusting blob has sat in the parking lot beneath my balcony, slowly leaking toxic melted snow whenever the sun finds itself fit for shining.

The pile has remarkably clean margins; from above it looks like a large pile of sick,* like some huge lumbering dinosaur got to’ up and didn’t quite make it back indoors before the Patron caught up with him.

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Barry! Barry! Dude, we’re almost inside.

Oooohhh…I’m gonna hurl…

Well, Jesus, dude! Do it away from my car! No, Barry – over here, in the grass!

I can’t. I…

Oh, nasty, man. Right in the fucking parking lot? 

Ugh. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just…

Uuuugh! People gotta drive through that shit now, dude! Okay, come on, let’s get you inside. No more shots for Barry.

No more shots for Barry.

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This morning it snowed – a little. I woke up and everything was covered in a dainty little snow-dust layer. It’s cute, all this snow blowing around. Except now the pile looks as if the Janitor’s come by with the sawdust.

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Damn it, not again! These fucking kids. No consideration whatsoever! Just do whatever the hell they want, wherever the hell they want. Son of a…

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The picture isn’t great, but I was trying hard to not draw the attention of the gentleman to the right who was cleaning off his car. Ooh, girl, you like what you see? You like how I use this ice scraper, huh? Mmm-hmmm.



*So we’re British today, are we? Yes, yes we are.

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