I had assumed that the squealing coming from outside of my window was one car hopelessly mired in a snowy parking spot, which seemed a little incongruous, as it’s not really snowing hard enough to create mrie. After over an hour of the squealing i decided that i would go and push the car out of the damn spot if that’s what it took, but a look out the window revealed that it was no one car but actually any car that was conscientious enough to stop at the stop sign at the top of the hill of my street. Because, apparently, stopping there in this light dusting enters your vehicle into some sort of anti-gravity zone where traction means nothing and you have to spin your tires for five minutes to get into the intersection.
After ascertaining that it definitely wasn’t the same car squealing (via watching three different cars experience the problem), i decided that the squealing didn’t bother me nearly enough to stand outside for an hour giving the reticent vehicles a push like a short-legged child on a high swing.
Speaking of children (man, can i fucking nail a segueway), i am a sucker for baby blogs. I love’em. Love reading about the too-cute exploits of children who i will never have to interact with (thus making them infinitely cuter). I think it’s PRECIOUS.
(wow, that car sounded really angry. jeeze, even i know gunning it to 60mph isn’t gonna help you in the anti-gravity zone)
Anyhow, child-blogs: hoochie-coochie coo. Yes. Aside from the obvious choice of Melly, who i consider to be queen of the acerbic baby-baring wits, Dooce also has a good bit of baby material (her’s is too young for much mischief, though). If you require some mayhem with your cooing, trying Bairn-Raising, written by longtime member of my extended blog-family/mafia, Funky Helix. And, um… i can’t think of any more, but boy do i read those three a lot.
Also, tiny sorta-ugly dogs are sortof like babies, only i COVET tiny sorta-ugly dogs (only when i see them in pictures, though, as then they are silent).
Damn hill.