Tuesday, January 22nd, 2008

Ice, Ice baby!

This morning I'm rushing around knowing that my house is old, drafty and pretty chilly during the winter months but dang, I live in Oklahoma... the southern part, it stays warmer here than it does in hell. I knew from the forecast that it was freezing temperatures outside but my husband assured me this morning before he left at 3:30 a.m. that there was no ice and it was traveling safe. (Remember this tidbit of information, will ya?)

So, I shower, grab something to take for lunch, put my pants, shoes and bra on... grab a coat to cover my bra so I can start my car for it to be warmed up by the time I'm ready to leave. I grab the keys, my foot hits the porch and slides to China. Thankfully, it takes me upright with it.

As I curse under bated breath at that sorry good for nothing husband of mine, I gently ease my way back to the door and hope that my ass don't find the porch and cement steps instead. After I praise all the gods of the universe that I didn't fall and break yet another bone in my feeble body, I think... how the hell did he get out of this venus fly trap?

God didn't give me brains for nothing. A plan arises. I get my half naked butt to the kitchen turn on the hot water, find a pitcher, fill it with salt. I slather the porch and steps with my new brilliant plan. I shall not be defeated by you demoned icicles! For good measure only, I fill the pitcher again but this time I put soap in it and slather the porch as well as steps in the concoction. This fail safe idea came from the internet or some folklore telling me that soap won't freeze. Okay, so now I'm doubting my brilliance but it worked.

I make my way to the car, go to open the door and it is frozen? Yes, frozen. I go around to the other side. Slightly frozen but not as bad as the other side, so I gain access. My brilliance deduced that heating the inside will gain me access once it melts the outside. I know... stunning, huh?

I return to the house. Finish dressing and command the world be in peace for the 30 minutes it takes me to get to work because once I'm in town, I'm stopping by the employment of the man and giving him a what for and a good piece of my mind. Yeah!

Once I get into my car and head out the drive way, I notice that I'm the only other stupid ass attempting to get in my car or even drive at this hour. Whimps. I, of course, thumb my nose at them because of my obvious prowess. I have achieved superiority over the masses! In the place of a Dark Lord you would have a Queen! Not dark but beautiful and terrible as the Morn! Treacherous as the Seas! Stronger than the foundations of the Earth! All shall love me and despair! as Galadriel says to Frodo! MWUAHAHAHAHAAHA!

I pull up to the stop sign waiting for traffic to clear out so that I can get on my merry travels on the highway when a fire truck passes by. Hmmm. Then more sirens approach. This time it is the ambulance. Hmmm. They are all heading the direction I am. Hmmm.

I will say I waited about 5 seconds debating on whether or not I wanted to forge on into what must be a fiery pit of chaos. What was the deciding factor? What if that is my husband they are going to save? I might be able to finish his ass off before they get there... if I hurry. (Truly, this isn't what I thought but it sounded better than the whimpering and tears that swelled in my eyes.)

I'm cruising about 35 miles per hour. People are passing me like there is no tomorrow. Hmmm. Perhaps, there is no ice on the freeway. Perhaps, they have salted it down even though I see no hint of it. I ease on up to 45 mphs. I'm getting my confidence built up despite common sense telling me to shut.her.down. I find my rate of 50 mphs just brink of the "wild side".

Then I come upon a bridge. Bridges are lovely creatures. They live a life all of their own. Despite what temperature the dirt is at the moment, a bridge rebels to be it own person by not complying with the norm of dirt. Many people forget this tidbit of information. Not I... I know this as I nearly slide my car sideways across that lovely metal, concrete bridge. Yeppers. My salad was almost tossed. I now have a huge commitment between my asshole and the seat cover on the drivers side. I think they french kissed to be the rumor I heard.

Now, I being a person of intellect realize that slamming on my breaks isn't the wisest thing to do... so I tap them rapidly as a huge semi-fucking-trailer-truck is closing the gap between me and Saint Peter. Not to worry... my car finds its footing and we are back to normal tread in no time flat.

Once I get the butterflies out of my throat and back into my stomach, slow the car down back to 25 mph, detach the new found love of my asshole and car seat cover I wonder... what the hell was I thinking!

I managed to get to work in one piece mind you but at a very slow steady rate. Never again will I attempt the quest of stupidity again. I will leave that to the idiots that obviously like their asses tongued by the steering wheel. Personally, I prefer other ministrations of my backside that are less abrupt... or of human touch.

I did go by my husbands work and seen that his car was in the parking lot in one piece and continued on my way to work. I figured with the way my luck was running, if I stopped to bitch his ass out I'd find myself sliding in the doors ass first. I had already avoided slipping a semi-truck in my anal cavity already. No need to press my luck even further.
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