There are these monstrous icicles hanging from the eaves of our apartment building. I am talking about five foot icicles and I’m not even exaggerating. I am talking about teeth—-giant, twisted, frozen fangs. Knives. Glass machetes. Glass harpoons. I park just about underneath them, and I’m a little bit nervous that one of them is going to break off and kill me. Remember when I said that winter is hilarious? Well, being impaled by a giant icicle is not hilarious. Some of these icy teeth have fallen (or possibly been struck down?) and lay in jagged chunks along the driveway. When I drive through them to park I worry that my tires will be punctured. Having tires punctured by shattered icicles is not hilarious.
I thought I’d have more to say today but I guess I don’t.