The following message is from the Master Redactor:
THE FOLLOWING IS NOT AN EXHAUSTIVE LIST OF IDEAS, JUST A LIST WRITTEN WHILE EXHAUSTED.
THAT IS ALL.
--MASTER REDACTOR- Hey, good neighbor, I know you really want to use that circa-1967 snowblower that won’t start, but you think maybe you could have shoveled in less time than it’s taken to yank that pull cord 348 times and asphyxiate our block with two-cycle pollutants?
- Hey, you got that snowblower working, but you think maybe blasting all the snow into the street is A) a dickwad move, B) a dipshit move because you’re doing it opposite the direction of the plows, and all that crap is going to return home, crammed back up our driveways?
- Hey, good neighbor on the other side, I know you’ve got some weird standoffish thing going for no reason whatsoever, but you think maybe you could stop pretending you don’t see me wave to you for long enough to focus on passive-aggressively shoveling to the exact bounds of our property lines and not an inch more?
- Hey, across-the-street neighbor, I know you have arrived at the station at which you can afford a second home in a warmer clime (kudos), but you think maybe you could at least underpay some high school kid to poorly shovel your friggin’ sidewalks since the multiple feet of snow here in Antarctichusetts doesn’t not exist just because you can’t see it from Snowbirdsville?
- Hey, I know it’s a lot of work to clear all the snow off your conveyance, but you think maybe you could expend the extra 25 calories of energy to clear the shit on top so it isn’t launching like a roof-mounted RPG directly into my windshield despite my safe following distance?
- Hey, I know you just expended that extra 25 calories of energy to clear the foot-high iceberg off the roof of your car, but you think maybe you could knock the snow off your license plate so that I know who to report for driving like a reckless trash barrel piece of shit?
- Hey, I know you’re stuck and/or sliding in this crap, but you think maybe flooring it and jerking the wheel like an escaped orangutan isn’t helping much?
- Hey, I know it’s 2pm and there should be daylight right now, but you think maybe you could grasp that it’s a fucking blizzard out here and one purpose of headlights is to let other people see your stupid ass tobogganing down the street?
- Hey, living bad-driver stereotype, you can’t operate a vehicle worth a good goddamn in perfect conditions, so you think maybe you could {get off the phone / turn down the fuck-awful music / stop putting on your makeup / put two hands on the wheel / put your seat up / stop yelling at your horrible gremlins in the backseat} and swerve directly into that telephone pole and take yourself off the road before you kill every last one of us?
- Hey, you rich schmucks in the hoity-toity neighborhood, you think you could set aside your unmerited privilege for a moment and do some manual labor (although I’m sure you have a grievous, immigrant-powered snow-throwing contraption that costs as much as a moderately priced sedan) to clear your sidewalks so that we pissants don’t have to mountaineer to our baseborn jobs—you know, the ones that actually keep your oblivious, head-up-the-ass world running?
- Hey, I know those fucking jerks didn’t clear their sidewalk, forcing you to walk in the street, but you think maybe you could pull the cell phone away from your stupid yammering face hole for two goddamn minutes and pay the fuck attention so that the horrific end to your useless existence doesn’t ruin the life of the decent person who accidentally runs you the fuck down?
- Hey, I know you’re some kind of all-star runner (or you hope to impress anonymous passersby with how hardcore you’re pretending to be), but you think maybe you could take a goddamn rest day and not run in the middle of the fucking road while the rest of us are trying to navigate our way to WORK?
- Hey, aloof dumbfuck, I know you’re an inconsiderate twat who normally double parks so that you can pick up your takeout to avoid parking legally and compassionately just one block away, but you think maybe you could stuff your outsize sense of entitlement up the back end of that SUV and appreciate that we’re down to half a lane as it is from the colossal volume of snow spilling from the curb into the roadway?
- Hey, business owner, I know you’re very busy griping about how the weather is keeping customers from purchasing your extraordinary wares, but you think maybe people would be more apt to patronize your business if you shoveled your walkways and gave more than a two-sevenths shit about clearing out your parking lot?
- Hey, you sanctimonious professional busybody waste of a decent salary and coveted cubicle space, hear this: HR is the rusty receptacle for cat ladies, bitch-men, and the self-anointed almighty. No idea here; I just wanted you to know that. Wait, I’ve got one: You think maybe you could pull your Zoloft-addled brain from your puckered sphincter long enough to recognize that not everyone is essential personnel, and a city in utter fugging lockdown means they shouldn’t have to decide between personal safety and a sick day—assuming they have one to spare?
- Hey, DPW, I know you need to plow the roads and widen the streets—and a sincere thanks to you—but you think you could do it within a few hours of the storm and not wait until the tits-cold dead of night so that I wake up to 14 tons of friggin’ ice-encrusted avalanche-density filth snow piled four feet high at the end of my driveway for the fifth fucking time in a 12-hour period?
- Hey, DPW, me again; I know that plows—for which I am still thankful—knocking giant craters in the pavement is unavoidable, but you think maybe you could fill those potholes before next fall and not do such a union-scale job that it creates a festering, loosely attached asphalt scab sure to be torn off by the first plow that passes two months later (when it is again winter)?
- Hey, Officer, I know you’re preoccupied with not directing traffic to safety, but you think maybe when one of these imbeciles does something that rises to the level of snapping you out of your disgruntled malaise you could have him or her pull over in an area that doesn’t cause the worst possible traffic cluster-plosion?
- Hey, Mr./Ms. government official, I know that for nine to ten months of the year you can live fat on graft and fleece the town/city/county/state with little to no blowback from the uninformed citizenry, but you think maybe you could notice that we suddenly notice there is no money for and no ongoing upkeep of our streets and sidewalks and highways and mass transit systems? Could you then give the illusion of giving an unregulated rat’s ass and not just offer such magnanimous advice as “allow your employees to work from home”?
- Hey, Atmospheric Overlord, you think you could kindly take a flying fuck up to Canada and stay there until I’m dead or no longer possess the mental faculties to give a two-sevenths shit?
Spew Forth Your Blather