I Hate Irony


Of course, I should have known putting up a smug little post about how much I loathe snow and how glad I am to have escaped its clutches was simply setting myself up for a fall, a snowy, icy, skidding fall.

Our yuletide plans are to drive down to Los Angeles for a couple of days, leaving on Christmas day because there’s nothing to do then anyway, so spending seven hours on the road is just a way to fill in the gap. Now comes word that the Grapevine, the part of Ineterstate 5 that crosses over the mountains outside of LA, closed yesterday because of snow and ice. It’s open again, but I can recognize a cosmic smackdown in the wings. Oh dear. I would hate to spend Christmas night in that weird little gas station in Buttonwillow.

About mrpeenee

A former bon vivant and terror of a number of New Orleans bars in the mad, gay 1980s, I'm now quietly retired and widowed in San Francisco. I have a crooked nose due to an unfortunate Frisbee accident.

3 responses »

  1. So what you’re saying, Mr. P, is that YOU brought this upon us? Imagine what Jerry Falwell would say if he weren’t crisping in hell.If you and the R Man need a place to stay, you are welcome at Miss Janey’s Place. From their bedroom window, the Janeys can see the dusting of snow on the mountains. The snow you brought. They don’t mind it at all.Drive safely… Oh, and one more thing- you’re tagged. Merry Christmas!


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