15 Ways to Celebrate the Glorious Melting of the Snow in Dallas

1. Actually open the front door.

  Oh, look! There’s Mr. Porch! Remember him? I missed him. He’s so nice most of the time. Except when his ass is covered in ice and he wants to shatter your skull on the sidewalk. Then I don’t really care for him.

2. Listen to the snow water running off the roof.

  It’s a very life-affirming sound, that dripping and gushing. The terrible ordeal is almost over. Yay! Of course, because of that sound, I’ve also felt the urge to pee for the last three hours solid. But I’ll happily deal with an overly-stimulated bladder rather than another day of rolling blackouts and having to look at the same stupid family members again. God I can’t stand them right now. Said with undying love.

3. Watch regular programming on TV.

  Dear Channel 5 News People. Thank you so much for all your efforts. I’m sure it takes a tremendous amount of work showing us the same slippery patch of highway where 46 cars did an impromptu line dance, over and over, as well as constantly reminding us that it’s cold outside. I think I understand now. We had a severe winter storm. I wouldn’t have known this without the weather man repeatedly showing us his radar so I could comprehend what that white stuff is out there covering the ground. Now, could I possibly watch a show that doesn’t have you people in it?

4. Take off the 27 layers of thermal underwear and that atrocious sweater that smells like cat.

  Really. It’s time.

5. Stop being afraid of the terrifying, deadly snow monsters in the backyard.

  It’s just the lawn furniture. See the chair arm sticking out of that slowly-dwindling hill that you were convinced was a Yeti with unfriendly intentions? It’s not going to kill you after all! Wait, why does that chair seem closer to the house than it was before? OMG! Maybe it isn’t safe after-

6. Get reacquainted with your car.

  That thing under the no-longer-groaning carport? It’s a vehicle. You can get in one of those things and drive places. No, really, I’m serious. Run fetch one of your photo albums, and I’m sure you’ll find a snapshot of people thinking they look cool while tooling around in one, the wind blowing through a hairdo that never should have been approved. Just concentrate really hard and it will all come back to you. Promise.

  7. Get revenge.

  Calmly pull out the license number that you jotted down after that complete idiot ran you off the road because they don’t understand ice or life in general, make a call to your secret contact in the Department of Motor Vehicles (the one that you almost slept with one night after some particularly evil tequila, but thankfully didn’t), obtain the home address of said idiot, make your way to his house, find him watching football while sitting in his underwear, and then beat the hell out of him with an ice scraper. As a further sign of your appreciation, release the parking brake on his truck and shove it into a ditch. Leave the ice scraper on the seat.

  8. Enjoy the pleasing rays of that warm, buttery ball in the sky.

  It’s not the sun, but that’s okay. It’s the fiery remnants of the nuclear device they had to explode in order to get this damn ice to melt. Yes, there might be some icky radiation fallout, but it’s a small price to pay to see the ground again. When you leave the house, just wear long sleeves, a nice hat, and some SPF 3,500. You’ll be fine. As an added bonus, you won’t need a nightlight anymore.

9. Revel in the sensation of your testicles finally descending.

  And ladies, you won’t have to hear any more jokes about how leaving the hi-beams on all the time will run the battery down. (Yes, I went there. Life is messy.)

10. Allow yourself a cleansing moment of cruelty.

  Call a friend or relative who is still snowed-in. Laugh maniacally and hang up. Share this post on their Facebook wall. Then block them.

11. Go streaking.

  Why not? Things really need to be aired out at this point.

12. Go eat at an actual restaurant.

  No more reheated chili! No more steaming soup that was delicious on the first day of the freeze but that you totally detested by the fourth day. No more eating sandwiches because actually turning on the stove runs the risk of another freakin’ rolling blackout.

13. Stop listening to local newscasters fretting about whether or not people can make it to the Super Bowl in Arlington because of the weather.

  I. Don’t. Care. Seriously. If you can afford a $5,000 ticket, you can afford to pay for the counseling you’ll need if you don’t make it.

14. Have Dorothy throw icy water on Sarah Palin.

  If she melts, then the rumors are true. (She can fly over Russia from her house!)

15.  Put your house on the market.

  There’s got to be some place where it doesn’t snow.

Backup Dancers From Hell: Faith Hill - “Breathe”

We start out with some nice nature shots of the Serengeti Desert, or some place where things seem to be a bit dusty and the Earth and sky have a lovely sepia tone with neutral colors that a savvy realtor would suggest you use on the walls of your dining room to get a better return on your investment. Then Faith proves that she is an eternal spirit of some kind by rising out of a picturesque lake and waving her hands about like one of the lesser deities in a Hindu poem.

Next we have Faith wearing what I think they call a “sheath dress”, which means that she’s basically wrapped her ass in a silk sheet and then turned to the camera. She’s doing some interesting hand gestures to imply that she has achieved self-acceptance and a love of windswept places where she is the only person on the horizon.

Oh wait, now we’re seeing Faith in some bed, with the silk theme continuing in the form of bed sheets that she’s wallering around in as presumably someone somewhere else in the house is making her coffee. As the camera caresses her toned body on this bed, we learn that Faith has enough hair that set designers can spread it out all over the pillow like something that might be mistaken for a Venus Flytrap in darker lighting. This is the first point where I realize that Faith really doesn’t like to look directly at the camera when she’s singing. What’s up with that?

Now we’ve got Faith back in the desert, and she’s swaddled in a gauzy red contraption like ancient Druids might have asked her to wear during an important ceremony. Oh wait, maybe we weren’t supposed to see that yet, because we quickly cut to Faith doing some type of hand yoga. I think maybe Faith is more invested in this hand activity than we are. And then we’re back in the silk-sheeted bed, and it might just be me, but I’m thinking Faith is a wee bit more horny than anyone planned for on this shoot.

Quick shot of Sheath-Dress Faith, and then we’re back to the Horny Bed with Faith almost showing us France. More Sheath-Dress, and now we can see that the back of this couture is weirdly designed and yet still sensual, and it’s fairly clear that Faith liberated her bra at some point. And more of Faith in that bed, where it appears to be very difficult for her to keep her legs still. I guess the designer sheets do much more for her than the average naked woman on a video shoot.

And we’ve got Sheath-Dress Faith doing more yoga out in the desert, assuming a difficult pose that I can only describe as Twirling Dog Discovers Tail. Suddenly, it gets very dramatic in that desert, with Faith raising her arms to welcome interplanetary spacecraft as they invade the planet. Perhaps Faith left out a few details in her official biography.

We get more shots of Sheath Faith strutting about, letting us know that she practiced walking around in this dress a lot. Brief bit of Faith playing with her hair, then we’re back in the bed where Faith is on the verge of personal satisfaction, and more images of Gauzy Faith tromping through more of the desert.

Now Bed Faith is sitting up, and you know there were personal stylists tripping over each other to make sure we don’t see the naughty bits. Faith doesn’t care, tugging on the sheets in a teasing way, and flopping around in a manner to indicate somebody hasn’t been giving Momma enough attention.

Back to the desert so one of the Faiths can dance in the middle of a crop circle, another facial shot of Faith, and then Bed Faith is thrusting her breasts in the air in a moment of absolute silken bliss. (Did they really show this thing on Country Music television? Because this girl has needs.)

Now we start seriously jump-cutting around among the various Faiths, with the central theme of this segment being that Faith really doesn’t know what to do with those breasts of hers. She tries dancing, and more yoga, and some business where she clutches at her hair whilst on that sex bed, but nothing is bringing her any true satisfaction. Poor thing.

And it’s starting to get late, as the sun sets on the two Faiths that like prancing around in the desert, and we have a new Faith that is wearing what might be a wedding dress. Faith really seems to like this new outfit, twirling and waving her arms like there’s a prize if she can convince Air Force One to land nearby. But then Faith changes her mind about assisting landing aircraft, and she starts pawing at her hair like she has so many itches that she doesn’t know where to begin scratching.

We get some more close-ups of Faith, and she’s still doing that annoying thing where she looks away from the camera, possibly making sure that Tim McGraw isn’t eyeing the Craft Services girl. She seems kind of mad during this bit, so I’m going to guess that she spied Tim asking for way more sushi than he really needs.

We wind it up with Wedding Dress Faith doing something that requires her to squat in the desert while the sun sets, another close-up of Faith Who Doesn’t Like To Look At The Camera, and a final ballet of Faith hand movements indicating that the interplanetary spacecraft should return to orbit. Because the human race is not ready for forced domination by a woman with unsatisfied bedroom needs…



Click Here to Watch the Video on YouTube.

10 Exciting Things To Do While Trapped In The House During An Ice Storm

1. Act like you‘re in the back seat of a car at the age of 7.

  Go up to someone and just start gently poking them with your finger. Don’t explain anything, just keep doing it. Even if you are dealing with someone who has the patience of Job (although I have no idea what Job was so patient about, probably the result of years of people not saying his name correctly), the pokee will eventually snap and turn on you in outrage. Act completely surprised when they do. If necessary, fake-cry until you’re back in their good graces. Then poke them again.

2. Chase the cat while waving a slotted spatula.

  This will completely irritate the cat, but everything irritates them so it doesn’t really matter. Stomp as hard as you can,  since this will up the fear factor a notch, especially if you wave that spatula just right so that it whistles. If the cat manages to locate a hiding place that is inaccessible to most humans, stab the spatula into the opening while muttering things about “kitty pie” and laughing maniacally. If the dreaded “back-arched and claws-extended” reaction combo takes place, signaling that things are about to go awry and bloody, change your tune and offer the cat a treat. Proffered on the end of the spatula. (You get extra points if the cat won’t touch it.)

  Helpful hint: If you don’t have a cat, find one of those hard-rubber little bouncing balls and whack it against a wall with as much force as you can. Same thing.

3. Pretend that you’re a programming director at ABC.

  Walk into a room where someone is resting comfortably and watching TV. Mumble something about “budget cuts”, snatch up the remote, turn off the TV, take out the batteries, put the batteries in your pocket, hand the remote back to the startled viewer, and leave the room. If they attempt to holler something after you, tell them to speak to your secretary. Then hurry off to attend a staff meeting in the conference room, which is really the bathroom.

  Double points: If your disgruntled housemate follows you to the closed bathroom door, still whining about the stupid remote, roll one of the batteries under the door. Then pretend to flush the other one down the toilet.

4. Plan a surprise swimming party.

  Once the coast is clear, leave the bathroom conference facility, locate some strong, double-sided tape, return to the facility, and attach the toilet seat lid to the toilet seat. Then, to properly stage the scene and increase the enjoyment factor, remove the light bulb from the fixture and hide all available toilet paper. Now go hide somewhere that is still within earshot. (Might want to snatch up some reading material, this might take a while.) When someone walks by with that “full-bladder” look, try not to giggle or you could screw it up. Listen carefully to the sounds of confusion and fumbling. As soon as you hear the butt-splash, run. When Drippy Booty finally finds you, point at other people.

5. As a tribute to the weather outside, reenact scenes from “Dr. Zhivago”.

  Some of you may be too young to recall this movie, but it basically concerns Omar Sharif and Julie Christie having a troubled relationship in some place where it’s really cold. If you want to play the Julie part, be sure to wear pretty fur-trimmed hats while pretending to tromp around in the snow, doing vague social work and not understanding who it is that you really want. For the Omar part, do things that let you look swarthy and hot enough to be partially responsible for the melting of the polar ice caps, even though you are secretly learning to play poker on the side because one day you movie career will tank and you need other options.

  Triple points: Build a model of the Ice Palace out of ice cubes before people steal some of your resources for their martinis.

6.  Eat.

  Everything in the house. Even the expired stuff. Calories don’t count when there’s ice on the ground.

7. Call other people that you know are trapped in their own houses, and pretend that you are in St. Croix.

  Speak with a French accent, as if you’ve been there a really long time and no longer recall what snow might look like. Rudely eat crackers whilst talking and complain that the caviar isn’t up to standard, and whine that the angle of the sun on your sandy beach isn’t quite as pleasing as you would hope. If your suspicious friend points out that they just saw you yesterday at the Piggly Wiggly, buying sauerkraut, and that you can’t possibly be on a tropical island, act like you are covering the mouthpiece with your hand and stage whisper to a non-existent partner “poor Mary Lou is having those visions again. She must have stopped taking her meds.”

  Atmospheric extra credit:  Pay the cat to have him make seagull noises in the background, as well as blow on a lifeguard whistle every 37 seconds. If your cat is really talented, have him simulate the sound of bikini tops being tossed brazenly into the wind.

8. Get all Emo and stuff.

  Sit at the window and stare out at the blinding whiteness, crying and moaning, psychologically destroyed about all the things you can’t go do right now. Most of them you would never do anyway, but the fact that you can’t do them at all makes you want to do them more than anything in the world. Read a book of Sylvia Plath poems, and then fall asleep morosely on the couch, where you dream in stark black-and-white and no one is ever satisfied.

9. Blame people for imaginary crimes.

  You: “I cannot believe you would do that!”  Helga: “Um…”  You: “You know darn well that I don’t care for the thousand island dressing.”  Helga: “Did somebody make a salad? I thought we were having shrimp brochette.” You: “And with our cousin of all people!” Helga: “Wait. Cousin? But we’re not even related. I just stopped by for a cup of sugar…” You: “No one likes a liar. No one!”

  At the height of confusion, pretend that the phone rings and run to answer it, tossing Helga a disgusted glare on your way over. Pick up the instrument, say “uh-huh” a couple of times, then hold the phone out to Helga and say: “It’s Jesus. He wants to talk to you.”

10. Drink beer.

  And I believe I’ve got everyone covered on this one. You folks can do the other nine. Cheers.