I hate the cold.
I do.
Cue all the people saying, “Well, Sharron we DO live in Canada.”
I do.
Cue all the people saying, “Well, Sharron we DO live in Canada.”
I KNOW!!!
But you see, to me, Toronto is like the Florida of Canada...ya know what I mean?
Maybe you don't.
I would like to ask here, in all seriousness, does ANYONE really like to wake up and see this?
I would like to ask here, in all seriousness, does ANYONE really like to wake up and see this?
ANYONE?!?!
Do the five people I saw riding BIKES this morning... REALLY!?!?...like this Weather of Doom?
Or does the dude I saw walking around with his Danier
leather jacket open to the sport shirt while he talked on his Blackberry (come on!!) without gloves on (COME ON!!!)...enjoy the Gusting Wind Of Tight Boobiness?
Maybe the chick who budded...YES, BUDDED...in line in front of me at the Starbucks in her fur lined, million dollar ear flap hat, that matched her TO THE GROUND Canada Goose jacket (is that what they are called?) AND her matching-every-other-piece-of-her-wardrobe Sorell boots...another investment...yes, I have a pair...but I live in Christmasland, so I need them...not saying that she didn’t...but...HOW DID I GET SO FAR OFF TOPIC...PROBABLY because of the fucking fucking fucking fucking cold...anyhow, back to the the outfitted chick that budded in front of me in line at Starbucks...if you know me AT ALL you know how I feel about the budding...and she spiritedly was ordering her venti mocha-choka-la-da-dee-da? Does she like the Slush of Mordor?
(Actually, to be honest, she seemed quite thrilled about the weather, I think she was waiting to wear her new billion dollar Arctic Christmas Outift...her joy was the only thing that kept me from choking her.)
Do any of you REALLY LIKE THE COLD?
Again...just for clarity...I FUCKING HATE THE COLD.
So, this fine fucking morning I bundled myself up as much as I could...I got myself and the big dog into our truck... that seems to be held together right now by about 100 tons of salt.
And I started her up.
Lord...the sound that truck made as she screamed into -22 degrees...was bone chilling.
BUT I was bound and determined to take the big dog for a walk.
You see, we moved yesterday into another sublet in TO...and Tyson has been a bit shook up about it all...he is quite tender hearted and doesn’t like too much change...so he is drooling a lot...seriously, as soon as he lies down I put a towel under his jowly face...poor boy.
But walks always make him feel better.
So, I was determined.
He had his winter coat on after all...a coat we had to stretch and cut a bit to make it fit him...he is big boned...and some of you might remember that when we searched for a coat for him the first year we had him, the person at the pet store told us we would probably have to go to Horse World to find him a jacket.
Horse World.
Anyhow, the pup and I rode in the truck to the Brick Works...and after we got our shit together and parked and got out of the car, got the poop bags and the ball...he walked three steps and then raised two feet in the air...and was shaking and shaking...and let me tell you, that huge dog raising not one but two feet in the air is quite a feat of engineering.
It has been so long since we had needed boots for the pups that I had forgotten...Tdog is good till about minus 11, really.
So, back in the fucking car...we drove to Petsmart, Pet Times, Small Wonders and NONE of them had the boots we needed...and more than that, when I asked for boots they looked Tyson up and down and said they probably didn’t make boots that big...which made me mad...because people are even sizeist against my big boned dog’s feet.
Jesus Wept.
Pet Valu was our last hope...and yes...yes, bitch...they had them!!
BALLOON BOOTS!!!
So easy to put on and take off...right?
Maybe the chick who budded...YES, BUDDED...in line in front of me at the Starbucks in her fur lined, million dollar ear flap hat, that matched her TO THE GROUND Canada Goose jacket (is that what they are called?) AND her matching-every-other-piece-of-her-wardrobe Sorell boots...another investment...yes, I have a pair...but I live in Christmasland, so I need them...not saying that she didn’t...but...HOW DID I GET SO FAR OFF TOPIC...PROBABLY because of the fucking fucking fucking fucking cold...anyhow, back to the the outfitted chick that budded in front of me in line at Starbucks...if you know me AT ALL you know how I feel about the budding...and she spiritedly was ordering her venti mocha-choka-la-da-dee-da? Does she like the Slush of Mordor?
(Actually, to be honest, she seemed quite thrilled about the weather, I think she was waiting to wear her new billion dollar Arctic Christmas Outift...her joy was the only thing that kept me from choking her.)
Do any of you REALLY LIKE THE COLD?
Again...just for clarity...I FUCKING HATE THE COLD.
So, this fine fucking morning I bundled myself up as much as I could...I got myself and the big dog into our truck... that seems to be held together right now by about 100 tons of salt.
And I started her up.
Lord...the sound that truck made as she screamed into -22 degrees...was bone chilling.
BUT I was bound and determined to take the big dog for a walk.
You see, we moved yesterday into another sublet in TO...and Tyson has been a bit shook up about it all...he is quite tender hearted and doesn’t like too much change...so he is drooling a lot...seriously, as soon as he lies down I put a towel under his jowly face...poor boy.
But walks always make him feel better.
So, I was determined.
He had his winter coat on after all...a coat we had to stretch and cut a bit to make it fit him...he is big boned...and some of you might remember that when we searched for a coat for him the first year we had him, the person at the pet store told us we would probably have to go to Horse World to find him a jacket.
Horse World.
Anyhow, the pup and I rode in the truck to the Brick Works...and after we got our shit together and parked and got out of the car, got the poop bags and the ball...he walked three steps and then raised two feet in the air...and was shaking and shaking...and let me tell you, that huge dog raising not one but two feet in the air is quite a feat of engineering.
It has been so long since we had needed boots for the pups that I had forgotten...Tdog is good till about minus 11, really.
So, back in the fucking car...we drove to Petsmart, Pet Times, Small Wonders and NONE of them had the boots we needed...and more than that, when I asked for boots they looked Tyson up and down and said they probably didn’t make boots that big...which made me mad...because people are even sizeist against my big boned dog’s feet.
Jesus Wept.
Pet Valu was our last hope...and yes...yes, bitch...they had them!!
BALLOON BOOTS!!!
So easy to put on and take off...right?
Well, by this time Tyson and I had ridden the truck all around the god damned city...he had gotten in and out about 6 times...and he was having none of it...I didn’t blame him really...I was ALSO having none of it...so, I had to actually climb in the back of the truck to get these friggen boots on him...and he was really making me work for it...so a pushed my Sorell boot against the car grill for leverage and my foot slipped and I found my self flying out of the back of the truck...onto the salt encrusted, slush covered, -22 degree pavement.
I just gave in and laid there...there just didn’t seem like any other choice at the time...I was actually a tiny sliver happy to be lying down...but as the slush leaked throught my pants I pulled myself up to sitting and found myself staring at three Sobey’s employees who were all outside their store....WITHOUT COATS...smoking...and staring...at me on the ground...in the slush...and the salt...in a pool of what was left of my self respect.
They all stared at me as I stared at them...no one helping the other out...wait, THEY DIDN’T NEED HELP!! I WAS ON THE GROUND...thanks for the support humanity.
And, for the record, after I got Tyson in the boots and back to the Brick Works, about 2 hours later...he was so afraid that he is getting left behind (which is what happens to him when we move to a new place...god bless) that he took about 25 steps into the park and then walked back to the truck.
I fucking hate the cold.
I just gave in and laid there...there just didn’t seem like any other choice at the time...I was actually a tiny sliver happy to be lying down...but as the slush leaked throught my pants I pulled myself up to sitting and found myself staring at three Sobey’s employees who were all outside their store....WITHOUT COATS...smoking...and staring...at me on the ground...in the slush...and the salt...in a pool of what was left of my self respect.
They all stared at me as I stared at them...no one helping the other out...wait, THEY DIDN’T NEED HELP!! I WAS ON THE GROUND...thanks for the support humanity.
And, for the record, after I got Tyson in the boots and back to the Brick Works, about 2 hours later...he was so afraid that he is getting left behind (which is what happens to him when we move to a new place...god bless) that he took about 25 steps into the park and then walked back to the truck.
I fucking hate the cold.
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