WEATHER, AHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Facebook is ruining me. I've said it before in regards to my ever declining empathy for extremists who bitch about everylittleeffingthing or those who gross me out with their incessant proclamation of love and blessedness on a tri-daily basis, but now it's getting serious. Weather forecasts of any noted severity turn my Facebook home page into a who's who of Chicken Little's giving me more conflicting dooms day exaggerations then I can keep up with.

Last night, for example, at least 10 people in the KC metro area would like to have had me believe I was going to wake up to 18" of ice and 42" of snow barricading me in my home. When in reality there was no snow and no ice, just some light misting all day long and a cold temperature of 28 degrees.

Instead of hiding these "friends" or not reading Facebook on an hourly basis or watching the weather reports on tv for myself, I choose to bitch about these people on my blog and avoid the grocery store so I don't chance being categorized as a "preparer."

Apocalypses were designed to take people like me out. There is a possible foot of snow lurking in my very immediate future and I've chosen to meet it head on with one roll of toilet paper, a package of refrigerated chocolate chip cookie dough and a bad attitude. This should be fun.

If I get a paid day off from work because of the snow I promise to do an equally entertaining blog that is pro-snow.

Buyer's remorse

We all knew this day would come. The day when I regretted buying my Civic. Show of hands though, who knew it'd be because of the sound the horn makes?

That's right.

The horn.

I'm not a violent person by nature. Sure I can mouth off when provoked and "accidentally" kicked Becca in the head that one time, but 50% of the time my gut reaction is not to strike. That is, unless I'm on the road. Suburban driving brings out the worse in me and it's like idiot drivers are bred here.

The two left lanes on north bound Antioch have been left turn lanes only, to west bound 435 for easily the last 2 years. Still, at least once a week there is some jackhole that "misses" the 18,000 signs telling them they are in a turn lane. Said jackhole then proceeds to hangout in the middle of the intersection, waits until I'm driving over the bridge at 40 mph and then tries to cut back into the lane, right in front of me.

My natural reaction to this is to ride their bummer and lay on my horn until it's time for me to turn into my condo complex in about 50 feet. How else will they learn?

With the Stratus, the sound produced by my horn matched what I was feeling and yelling inside my car. If that feeling were represented as a cartoon character it'd be Bluto, from Popeye.

However, in the Civic I now sound like Wade the Duck, from Garfield and Friends, wetting himself.

If the Dukes of Hazzard can have a custom horn, then so will I.

So. Will. I.

An open apology

Last night my friend Amanda and I went to the free Luke Bryan concert at the Power & Light District. It was awesome...more on that later, maybe.

They had to close off the city block, because they reached capacity, so it was f-u-l-l. We actually found a pretty premium spot to stand on some stairs about 30 yards from the stage. The one downfall? A group of drunk girls with big hair, bad balance and picture-taking fever.

Well into the second half of the show Luke sang one slow song, a recent number one hit called "Do I."

Here is the song.

Here is how blonde-bumpit-ponytail was dancing. (move the time bar to 7:00 and watch until 7:35 to get the full effect)

I'm not naïve enough to think I was never this girl when Becca and I would go to Pomeroy concerts back in Manhattan, so please consider this my open apology to anyone who ever stood behind me at a concert when I was that girl.