It's winter time.
Ole Jack Frost has been wreaking havoc all across the Fruited Plain, from Texas to New England.
I have lived in Colorado in the Rocky Mountains at about 8600 above sea level and now I live in Maine, so I am not a stranger to brutal winters - wind, snow, ice, been there done that.
When I woke up yesterday morning it was 12 degrees below zero with a wind chill of minus thirty! In the vernacular of meteorological circles this bitter blast of Old Man Winter is referred to as TFC - Too Fucking Cold.
I bring this up because when the weather turns nasty like that, there is very little recreation to be had in Maine. Sure, you can go snow skiing or snowboarding, but I don't do that shit. People die from doing these sorts of things, I prefer to let Father Time and Jesus call me home when my time comes. I have never skied nor snowboarded and I have lived 58 years without a winter sports related broken bone, torn ligament or severe head injury from crashing into a pine tree or some shit. It is also a well-known scientistic fact that among the most common winter sports injuries is the Gazebo Separatum, or as you may know it "the nut sack ripped out by the roots immediately upon a violent collision with a BFT (big fucking tree)".
Many other residents of the Pine Tree State agree with me. Instead of dying or having your testicles ripped out by the roots by participating in some stoopid winter sport, they would much rather consume copious quantities of distilled spirits. As a Former Professional Drinker and Experiencer of TFC, this has always been (until I quit drinking) my Favorite Fearless Leader Sanctioned Winter Sport of Choice. Have you ever seen a professional bowlers arms? (there's point to this, believe me) One arm looks like Popeye's and the non-bowling arm looks like Olive Oyl's. I suffered from this particular malady when I was a Pro Drinker. Lifting 12 ounces at a time times 49 bazillion beers is a lot of hard work and very strenuous exercise.
Another very popular winter activity in Maine is getting blasted on Meskin Beer and Old Rot Gut Rye Whiskey, hopping into your SUV and proceeding to the nearest aesthetically-pleasing yard of a complete stranger at 4 A.M.
Upon arrival at the yard of choice, the next step is to do donuts on the lawn until you get your SUV
Now that your truck is bogged down in the stranger's yard, the only logical next step is to knock on her door to ask for help. Mainers are typically a friendly bunch, but when they are awakened by a Drunk Guy whose automobile is half-buried in their front yard at 4 A.M., even the most cordial Mainer is, shall we say, "cranky", although "mad as a crack ho without some rock and a cock" would be more fitting.
Anyway, Drunk Guy knocks on the home owner's door asking for help, she ain't too happy and says, "My good man, I most unenthusiastic concerning your wanton destruction of my landscapery, therefore I am inclined, at this point, to refuse you the assistance that you so desperately seek." Actually the lady didn't say exactly that, it was more like "Fuck you, you pickled assbag!".
The Drunk Guy really did not appreciate the lady's reaction to his request for help, so he slapped the hell out of her! Being bitch slapped by an inebriated idjit who just destroyed your front yard at 4 A.M. is not something that Little Old Ladies of Maine endorse. In such situations, however, Little Old Ladies of Maine do endorse calling Law Enforcement to protect and serve.
She called, the cops came and they protected and served.
When the Fuzz arrived the Drunk Guy was holding a bottle of likker which they politely requested, "Drop the bottle of likker, you pickled assbag!". The Drnk Guy complied, but only after he chugged the rest of the booze down!
Alas, he was taken into police custody and charged with a bunch of shit including Wanton Annihilation of the Front Yard of a Little OLd Lady of Maine While Likkered Up at 4 A.M. Without a Permit.
Maybe next time it's Too Fucking Cold the Drunk Guy will go skiing. Or snowboarding. If he does that, at least he'll have his Freedom. He'll lose his nut sack, but at least he'll be free.