A few tail feathers cracked off this morning, the night after me and Andy, like morons, playing in the snow. At night. Serves me right for thinking I could trap that long pass from
Dubs of "The Monster Raving Looney Rantings of Dubs." I also feel like I'm coughing a frozen lung out of my gizzard, which I didn't expect to be physically possible.
All anyone can talk about in Chicago is this weather. There's a foot and a half of snow out, another blizzard touched just north of us, and the mercury's not getting to zero today. So, no more going outside! I'm booting up video games, possibly a few maps set in deserts and tropical areas: I plan to keep all my tail feathers for another day. I've got a while 'til I molt and gain those back.
Speaking of more birds playing football,
this one's abandoning us.
P.S. Totally burned Andy. Frozen wings over frozen boots and ankles, any day!
Labels: Midwestern Values, Weather
