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...on a massive amount of anabolic steroids.

And actually it's going to be more of a visibility-impaired, dingy-gray Christmas. For those of you who watch the news, you know Colorado's been the site of a massive blizzard Wednesday and part of Thursday. Two feet of snow's the minimum pretty much statewide, with Denver and the metro area getting the worst. Call me what you will, but I think all those jokes about "surviving" the holidays are somehow even less funny when they're not, y'know, jokes. Driving on an interstate in whiteout conditions with 40 mph winds is something I'd really rather not do again. It's pretty close to my idea of hell, especially when the wipers need de-icing every 15 minutes so I can not see a little better. Thankfully I didn't drive off a cliff and spent Thursday far enough north to not have any more snow past midnight. 'Course, then came the "digging cars out of the snow and waiting to get anywhere because the snowplow driver for the apartment complex is stuck somewhere" part. Yeah. The snowplow driver got stuck. Because Mother Nature's Christmas present to this forsaken state was a governor-declared state of disaster. I s**t you not, the National Guard was out picking people off the highway and later pushing cars off to the shoulder so plows could get through. In Boulder, where I live, things are still messy and awful, because hippies don't like interfering with naaature, maaaaan, and prefer to let people get stranded in their homes because the roads are nothing but ice and enough snow to high-center a Jeep (Not kidding. Saw it happen, dug it out). It's snowing more now. I'm all for a little snow around the holidays, makes the place look festive and keeps people off the roads, but this has merely strengthened my resolve to go someplace this does not happen. At all, not just "every 10 years or so." I'd wish our belligerently drunk, 'roid-popping weather god an unhappy new year, but chances are that'd just come back to me in a bad way.

So instead, Merry Christmas to all you Gaians, safe from the menaces of a hostile environment. Enjoy the event, drink as much of Uncle Randy's speciall all-bourbon eggnog as you can, and try not to be too disappointed in what you get. If all else fails, at least you can go outside to exchange it.