Late last week, the weather forecasters in town managed to work themselves into a tizzy, prognosticating another “storm of the century” for us in Atlanta (‘cause the light dusting of snow we had at Christmas didn’t measure up, or manage to shut down the city). Seriously- the forecasters here get as worked up about winter weather as a certain Savannah forecaster does when there’s a freaking tropical system anywhere in the northern hemisphere. (I'm serious- the guy practically creams his pants whenever a "tropical wave" pops up anywhere between Africa and Mexico.)
I figured it was the standard bloviation, with very little basis in fact. I kept that assumption all the way to 9:15 or so Sunday night, when it finally did begin to snow. “Big deal,” I thought. “I’m sure it won’t be more than a light dusting.”
Forty-five minutes later, when “Desperate Housewives” (what of it?) was over, there was about four inches of the stuff on the deck (where Tuxie was plowing through it, trying to “get” the flakes that had the nerve to fall in front of her). I headed to bed to read my new Stephen King book.
By the time I rousted myself Monday morning to head to work, holy shit. There looked to be about six inches of the stuff outside. The street outside (along with everything else- including the Elefant) was covered in white. On the TV, the news freaks were in near ecstasy (Shelby’d fallen asleep with the news on), warning everyone to “stay off the roads! Extreme danger! The city is shut down! Shit your pants!”
I’ve heard/read plenty of comments from more winter-weather experienced folks about how this isn’t really a snow storm, and how six inches of snow (or whatever) isn’t anything and blah, blah, blah. Whatever. To those people I say- it’s Georgia. Not Minne-freaking-sota. We aren’t used to this shit. We don’t have snowplows (not very many of them, anyway)- and the local municipalities certainly don’t have the equipment needed to keep all the roads clear. (And, again- it's not my driving I'm worried about- it's the dumbasses who are driving along, texting.)
So here I sit on Tuesday, watching the Monsterquest episode about the Abominable Snowman (fitting, no?) and wincing after Shelby grumbled at me for going out and driving around a bit. I wanted to get pictures, danggit! After all, it’s the storm of the century…
The college football season is over (finally) and (for the fifth straight year) the supposed national championship team comes from the SEC. So much for their dominance waning, huh?
Well, seeing as the league wrapped up their bowl season with a 5-5 record, that rumor of a slide might have some ring of truth to it. (The “mediocre” Mountain West? 4-1.) Then again- the SEC is 7-0 in the “title game”.
Who cares that Auburn will be giving up the title in five years, when the NCAA decides Cam Newton actually did have knowledge of his dad’s “pay for play” scheme (and took the money).
As ever, I remain firmly convinced a playoff system is the way to go. Forty something bowls. Geez…
Did you see where more than 26,000 people won $150 each last week in the Mega Millions drawing after playing the numbers Hugo played to win the lottery on “Lost“?
Four of the winning numbers were the character’s picks: Hugo’s numbers were 4, 8, 15, 16, 23 and 42, the Mega Millions numbers were 4, 8, 15, 25, 47 and 42.
And that’s about the only thing that’s EVER made sense in relation to that show. I mean, after watching the first season, I figured out they were dead. I just never knew what the fuck else was going on…
Hey- "who 'dat done lost to a team that shouldn't have even made the playoffs?" Jump off the bandwagon now, Saints’ fans…
The Falcons play host to the Packers Saturday night in the prime time match up.
Remember back before we knew just how much of a punk Michael Vick was? When a supposedly overmatched Falcons team went to a frigid Lambeau Field to be the Packers’ sacrificial lambs as Green Bay marched to another Super Bowl? The Falcons shocked everyone by winning that game. Let’s hope we don’t see a reversal of fortunes Saturday night.
The NFC’s road to the Super Bowl runs through the Georgia Dome, so here’s hoping the Falcons don’t run into a dead end…
Didn’t watch- but I heard it was awesome when the fans turned on Vick…
Tuxie is (usually) the “smarter” of the outdoor cats. Yet there she was Sunday night, out on the deck, chasing snowflakes into the building drifts. Grace (the dumb one) was at least out of the weather somewhere (or, at least, not romping through the snow right in front of us).
Neither of them seems smart enough to stay in the little shelter I built for them. The one that’s lined with blankets and towels, and even has a heating pad running in it for them to snuggle in and stay warm. Instead, they seem to prefer staying in the plastic storage bin on the deck. Sure, it has blankets and such, but it’s got a huge opening, the blankets get wet, and there’s no heat.
If Grace had just refrained from biting my nose (and peeing on me) their first night, they might still be inside. They’d be just as dumb- I have no doubt- but they’d be warm. And (I assume) dry…
Ms. Molly said Monday she was watching as the City of Piedmont (Alabama) used a tractor to try and plow the street in front of her house, which managed to make large piles of snow in front of her driveway- and all it really accomplished was uncovering the sheet of ice underneath the snow.
But hey, at least they tried. The only way our street will get cleared is from people driving on it- and rednecks towing people on sleds behind their trucks.
Guess I’ll see what’s on TV now.
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