Hello, I’d like to register a complaint

Complain?

Who?

You?

But Donna, you never EVA have even the most wispy of gripes. //snort//

So then, wut up?

It fucking snowed last night! It’s motherfucking April 16th and there’s SNOW on the ground! WTF!!!

OK, OK, it’s a very light dusting of the frozen white stuff. Not nearly as bad as the storm my friends and fam reportedly got in Western Pennsylvania.



Still, Rocco was not amused. Hiding out in the far depths of his shanty town, he needed to be coaxed out for dinner even though it was his fav—haddock leftovers from our supper. Our tough guy is especially partial to wild caught, baked with just a touch of mustard. Of course.

Plus, the wind yesterday was so intense that our noisy boy, Gaston, and our griftery man, Gus, didn’t stop by at all. Yes, I’m concerned. Recall, if you will, I’m in the pro worry league (Beads? We don't need no lousy beads!).

Meanwhile, our Coco was/is happily oblivious. Her main concerns at the moment are “will The Amazing Bob sit down any time soon? I need lap time for Bast’s sake!” and “Where, oh where, is that wretchedly lazy woman with my treats?!”

from Late Snow by F.J. Bergman:

When we went to bed last night;
the world was green, but now it’s white.
It should be spring this time of year,
but I guess winter wasn’t quite
as through with us as we would like.

from To The Snow by Debora Greger

Snow, let go. It’s late,

You are cornmush. You are cold.

Let me cover you with this white sheet.

No one will know.