Dragging my hung-over self out of my bunk bed this weekend, I awoke to find a sight not often seen this year.  The light dusting of snow has become as rare a sight as seeing an Okapi in the wild.  Nothing like gale force winds throwing icy knives of pain at your face while you’re trying to form some sort of coherent thought to show off to that dime piece you’ve met outside the townhouses or run from some crazy broad who will stop at nothing to get a piece of you.  Remember: snow makes you run slower so always have an exit strategy.

It’s so cold out that my thoughts have actually turned into a collection of unintelligible fragmented sentences. The only productive thing I’ve managed to do while walking from place to place in this sub-arctic weather is to devise clever swears that are actually just incoherent versions of other swears sandwiched together into some awful fragmented thought.  I’d share them here but I doubt they’d survive the gauntlet that the editors throw at my work every week.  If by the time you read this the column is something you could show your parents, odds are my ‘linguistic creativity’ didn’t exactly make the cut.

Naturally, the snow-gods could not have blown a few inches of their crisp white goodness unto our upturned faces anytime during the 3 week long vacation that for once seemed to be sarcastically named ‘winter break’.  I would have loved to spend a few days skiing up in the frozen north rather than sleeping and pretending there was any point to carry on living after opening my presents on Christmas.

I must applaud all the  female Fairfield Stags for continuously making the trek up to the townhouses, questing for warmth and companionship while wearing seemingly less and less clothes.  You are the true troopers of Fairfield University.  If you can go out in a blizzard wearing nothing then what seems like a black sock cut in half then gosh darn-it, I have no excuse.  Somebody should give you all a medal …or pants… but I think that would be counter-productive…

On a more positive note, pirates of the internet rejoice as that bill that almost brought about the end of the internet was finally killed.  No more will I have to worry if my favorite mash-up web sites will be shut down due to copy-write infringement.  I can carry on with my motto of having no licensed music whatsoever on my iPhone.  Wikipedia is safe and sound just in time for the first papers of the semester to be due.  I can’t even imagine what I’d do if I wasn’t able to find music on YouTube or other free remixes online.  I’d be stuck playing ‘Pumped up Kicks’ on repeat for hours and hours.  Maybe I’d throw on some Frank Sinatra and really go nuts.

As a parting note, for all of you New Year’s resolution gym attendees:  keep at it.  Don’t be a stereotype and run out of steam.   Just keep swimming.  Or running.  Or whatever it is that you do.  Stay warm and never let the weather prevent you from having a good time…or not wearing pants.

 

 

– Sent from my iPhone

 

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