Tepid Mud-Plain Drizzles are the New Death Tundra Blizzards.

I think I must not have recieved the memo about how starting in two thousand fucking six, January will be required by unnatural law to behave exactly like March. If I was March I'd be so pissed to have my unique role as "The Crappiest Month Alive" snaked out from under me.

In other news, I think my blogger spell-check is on the blink, because whenever I've clicked it so far something other than flashing red lights and miles of highlighted text appeared. So until further notice, my spell check is broken. I consider the odds of the computer software (whose only purpose in life is to fix spelling errors) being fucked up as being far better than the odds of me, after 23 glorious years of inneptitude, having learned to spell.

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