For whatever reason, it has started to snow a lot in this locale. Winter was going along fine and then, whoosh, snow disaster out of nowhere. Like a cold, white venereal disease, ruining all of our good times. If venereal diseases could be cured by April. That would be nice for the long suffering. April brings May flowers and a herpes free summer. That’s good of April. It would be ironic, however, if someone had contracted a venereal disease from a person named April. Not to be disparaging any Aprils out there.

Anyway, like all bad things, the sudden influx of snow has come with a bright side. No, not snow blindness (I had an IronFist comic book where the hero became snowblind chasing a guy with long hair and claws. “‘Snowblind!” he shrieked. And then the bad guy clawed the shit out of him. And yelled “Should have worn your sunglasses, dumbass!” The bad guy had a fine sense of humor. I wonder whatever became of him. Probably continually relegated to shitty comic books, never to make a Marvel movie. What a waste.)

As I was saying before I was interrupted by my nostalgic meanderings (which may or may not be a faithful rendering of what actually happened as I was like nine when I read it), the snow comes with an upside. For, while interminable shoveling is bad for the back, it does take your mind off the collection of fools who are running the country. I use “running” in the most euphemistic of ways in the prior sentence.

Of course, there are plenty of people who appear fine with the fact that we are hurtling toward nuclear doom. And, I understand. There are many unhappy people who want to die. Their lives suck. Husband is a fat, toothless hillbilly. Children are delinquents running meth labs. They work as a cashier at the Dollar Store and their boss is a twenty-three year old kid who plays Fortnite in his spare time. To be honest, I would want to die, too. It’s just the part about taking the rest of us with you that causes me consternation.

If you want to hurtle towards Armageddon (which, for your information, was originally just some shitty little town in the desert- talk about something going out of control), I really think you should keep the rest of us out of it. Perhaps we could just draw a line of demarcation (North and the South, anyone?). All of the people who no longer want to live and think they are going to a better place can go South. Of course, they aren’t going to a better place. They are going to Mississippi. But they don’t care much about facts or details. I mean, when brushing your teeth is beyond the purview of your personal responsibility, does it really matter?

Anyway, all of you can go down there and begin the Libertarian End Times. Yay!! No taxes or homosexuals!! Heaven on Earth I’d say. Maybe that will make all of you so much happier that you won’t even care about MS-13 coming to take away your babies.

As a sidebar, MS-13 is a really dumb name for a gang. Bloods. Crips. Those are scary names. MS-13 sounds like some guy who will be headlining at Electric Forest. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Zeeeeeeeeeeeee- zipppppp. Boom. Boom.

Y’all don’t get to go to Electric Forest. But the MO does. He’s on stage right between The String Cheese Incident and Pigeons Playing Ping Pong.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. “I am the Real Orange, I am the Real Orange, I am the Real Orange. Nothing rhymes with me…. Bitches.”

BoomBoomBoomBoom Zeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee- booooooooom!!!