I’m colder than a polar bear’s nutsack


This polar vortex is the devil in frozen form. It’s presence was unwelcomed in the first place and the fact that it has decided to stick around for more than a few days, is really cramping my style in the bungalow.

Problem #1: The bungalow sits alone on a hill on a mountain. Snow drifts and wind gusts threaten to tear down its beaten and rotten guts on the daily. Picture Dorothy’s house in the eye of the tornado. I go to sleep in Pennsylvania, I expect to wake up in Oz.

Problem #2: Its constructed like a mobile home, complete with the sparse cement bricks holding its compact structure up off the ground. Where’s the problem you ask? Well, in order to ensure warmth and comfort, that would require adequate insulation underneath. There either never was any of the glorious pink fluffy stuff due to saving a buck on its installation, or the many woodland creatures who take refuge beneath me have stolen it all for their own bedding supply. Also, the wood skirting that is meant to cover the barren wasteland beneath it crumbles like soup crackers in my fist. My woodchuck resident, whom I named Sir Francis Peddington, takes a small chunk away with him every time his fat furry ass goes to and fro.

Problem #3: This all leads to the current issue at hand: frozen drain pipes which makes for a useless kitchen sink. I managed to find a glorious solution via Google, a mixture of Drano crystals and boiling water meant to un-freeze the pipes. Oh it works, up to a point. WARNING: it also causes severe skin irritation, corneal burns, and respiratory distress from the lovely chemical smoke it produces, much like a nuclear mushroom cloud. This all would have been super successful if not for the original location of the freeze, many feet from where this girl can gain access. The landlord’s solution: disconnect the kitchen drain pipe from the main pipe and just let my water flow straight into the ground outside the bungalow. Easy. Sorry Roto-Rooter.

Okay, I can see how that would save them money and give me my sink back. Quick fix. But then there’s that pesky polar vortex that just won’t go the fuck away. Water freezes instantaneously. The ground is frozen. Is there a possibility of a soon-to-be dirty dish water frozen pond about to form?

Now if only rabbits and squirrels knew how to ice skate.

I can teach them and then turn around and charge an admission fee to help pay my heating bill.

There’s a thought.

Shit, I hope they tell their friends.

3 Comments on “I’m colder than a polar bear’s nutsack

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