I'm going to attend Winter Bike Expo at Midtown on Saturday although I'm still forming an entourage for my entrance. You should go too if you live within a reasonable distance so you can ride a bike with big ass tires.

If we get the predicted half inch of snow tonight will you promise to shut the fuck up and go on with your life?

I'm going to be out there on the front lines on Black Friday. Them bitches ain't seen nothing like me. I can clear them out with one swing of my big ass. Just kidding. I'll be sleeping in with my woman and won't get up until the Assassin jumps on the bed and make a nuisance of herself.

If you're flying for the holiday I hope you enjoy your pat down. I could go for a good after lunch pat down right now.

I can still hear my mother in the kitchen of our old house on Lawndale cooking on Thanksgiving morning. Is your mom's turkey dry? Then shut the fuck up and put some gravy on it.

Counting down those minutes till quittin' time on Wednesday, aren't we sporty. Me too. I look forward to days off with Mrs. We're each others right hand man.

I started to build a snowman and then my hands got cold. I've got some thick rubber gloves that you boys would hate seeing your doctor wearing but it's going to be 50 on Thanksgiving so why bother.

Good thing Ma didn't design the Marlins new uniforms.

I'm about to see if the Statute Of Limitations has run out on that pea soup.

I could see taking a candle making class.

Historically, this is where my fantasy football team takes a big shitteroo. I go back to the days of manual scoring with the old newspaper on Monday night. These days you don't even have to know the people in your league. Ah, the days of the fantasy draft party...swords, titty grabs, Grandma's car on fire, Big Da Da passed out on the steps. It ain't a party until something gets broken.

I guess a writer writes even if it isn't always profound information. Of course, I would never identify myself as a writer to most people because the judgmental motherfuckers are just dying for the chance to rip you. Not that I really give a shit.

The house is quiet without the Snowy Bear. Sassy has embraced the Queen Bee status even if she doesn't have an understudy. She may have to calm down quite a bit before we even think about introducing another dog into her home.

We had one three inch snow and I already hate. I definitely live in the wrong place. I love snow when it's fall but then want it to melt within 48 hours. If we didn't have snow then the Pugsley idjits wouldn't have much of a reason to ride their giant tired bikes. I applaud their knees because my knees hurt at the mere thought of trying to turn those tractor tires. It's a status symbol to have one. I get it.

God bless all of the mothers who are under unbelievable stress when their children go off to war. Nobody loves you like your mother.

Fridays

Miss Debbie made her yearly birthday trip to the Como Zoo yesterday and a smaller version of the Snowy Bear posed for a picture. She then stormed Herberger's with her 10 dollar off coupon. Today she will hold court at the Unique Thrift Store in Northeast. We'll also hit the 1968 Exhibit at the Minnesota History Museum. We'll try to be home before the sun goes down at 2 pm.

I didn't do shit today and tomorrow looks just as good. When you get to my age you shouldn't search the internet for old co-workers because you may just come up with an obituary.

I did ride my little bicycle a grueling 16 miles including some through downtown Minneapolis for shits and giggles. Let's do a hard pastry ride from Midtown to The Donut Cooperative to Baker's Wife and back to Midtown? Ok, let's not.

Yes, for many of you, it is a douchephone. This is especially true for anyone under 18.

Mrs birthday is coming up and she has a detailed set of plans to celebrate it.

Facebook is like my college alumni newsletter. It's all the happy news that's fit to print.

I quit Twitter after Snowy Bear died. I still have the account but there's a definite lack of interest.

All that's left to do is the ladder act cleaning out the gutters and roof valleys. Can I get a witness?

Fridays - All doctor's wives have fake tits

Mrs sprained her ankle a couple of weeks ago and the pain and swelling are lingering so I've been driving her to work. I pick her up from work at 3:15 and we get home at 3:30-ish when we don't make any stops. By 3:35 Mrs will be in her jammies. We usually don't go anywhere in the evening because people over 50 shouldn't be allowed to drive after dark. Oh, if you're afraid to tell an older relative that they shouldn't still be driving, I'm available to give them the bad news. Better me tell them than Mrs. Don't get someone who worked 20 years at a long term care facility going about senior's driving.

Hey, we wrote something and it was remotely coherent so we must be turning a corner. Now get the fuck out of here before I call the cops.

Written words escape me these days. The loss of the Snowy Bear has been tougher than even I anticipated and I thought it would be rough.