It's French Toast Season Again

You know. That time of year where a snowflake falls and everyone runs to the store to get bread, milk, and eggs?

It's called winter, people. It happens every year. Sheesh.

I don't like snow, of course, being the delicate hot-house flower that I am. And I hate the way there are only two kinds of drivers on the road--the douchebags going 60 mph ("I've got an SUV!") and the douchebags too terrified to drive faster than 5 mph ("I don't want to wreck.") Both should stay home.

But there are some amusing things about winter weather. Like this. That's my car when I left work today. If you look closely, you'll see about a dozen icicles connecting my car to the parking lot. Ha!