edward fox's reality

Rated TV-14 for Mature Content. Even though kids participate.

Honestly, I’m doing this for three reasons:
1. I can tolerate watching fake murders on TV and movies, but cannot tolerate seeing any media that shows animals being abused, tortured, mutilated, injured, or killed.
2. I haven’t blogged in a while about anything, much less anything important.
3. I want a free tofurkey. Isn’t that a cute name, too?!

But, now on to a more serious issue.

How can we still be so cruel to animals?

For some of you who don’t know, I have been vegetarian since May of this year, 2008. Initially, I was inspired not only because I used to have chickens as pets and think they’re great as companions, but because I was shocked and disgusted by the gargantuan amounts of hormones that are pumped into all of these animals, that not only make them over-sized horrendously, but also make those antibiotics transfer to us. The meat industry uses more antibiotics than humans do. It’s just disgusting all around.

Some people say you “need meat” to survive. I think I’d hear about vegetarians and vegans dying regularly then, wouldn’t you?

I don’t get what our twisted fetish is with eating meat. I wish I wasn’t raised that way, but I’ve changed now, and I couldn’t be happier.

So, why the main spur of a call to action from my (highly limited) group of readers? I saw a few words on PETA2′s Pledge page [link], worded very well from Marta on peta2.com’s site:

* No animal was tortured in the making of a Tofurky.
* No one has to stick her/his hand up a turkey’s butt. Tofurkys don’t have butts.
* Tofurky roasts are available practically everywhere.
* Turkeys will be thankful.

The one that stuck out, though, was this one:

* Murder should never be cause for celebration.

How disturbingly true. Let’s be thankful that we painfully slaughtered this animal and made it suffer from the moment it was born so we can ingest chemicals and its pain and suffering. I’m so incredibly disgusted.

I still have the images of videos I had seen years ago of animals being tortured for their fur, and they’re still with me. I couldn’t bear to watch the video, but if you have the stomach for it, and if it will help you in going against meat, not just for one day, but indefinitely, please do it.

If you want to be brave, and make a difference, go ahead and sign the pledge:

http://getactive.peta.org/campaign/p2thanksgivingpledge

You’re doing the right thing. Turkeys will be grateful. Wouldn’t that be nice? Animals that can’t hurt you, that never hurt you, that never did anything wrong to you, won’t have to suffer for your pleasure?

Sounds good to me.

If you have a crappy computer or a shitty monitor, feel free to ignore this blog entry, as you won’t be able to appreciate the full awesomeness of the apparel I am about to present you with. If you do, and you’re not a broke ass, continue to enjoy this entry.

So I’m a fat, obese fuck. Oh, some of you think I’m exaggerating. I am being completely serious and medically accurate. I used to be at a BMI as low as 24.5, which is still borderline on being overweight (not to be confused with a BMI of >30, which is considered obese, and >35, which is extremely obese)… my BMI has shot up to ~31.5 within two and a half years, and that is sick, literally.

I know I take a lot of pictures that make me seem slimmer than I really am, and honestly, if you all thought I was fat at all in some of my other pictures, you guys were too stuck-up, even for me. I weighed 40-65 lbs. less in some of my older pictures, and I want to get down to that weight, and lower, way lower. I know that I will never be a twig– I don’t plan on wanting to be. I am not a femm; I am a straight-acting guy and I don’t need to slim down to fit in girl jeans. I want to look hawt, and to me, not wearing clothes meant for your gender (unless there’s some hawt shirt which could pass off as a guy’s shirt, too) is not attractive at all in my book. I feel sorry for your genitals, silly boys with tiny balls.

So I found inspiration to correct this health and emotional issue. That’s right — there’s not one minute of every day that I don’t think about my weight. I don’t understand how extremely overweight/obese people can feel comfortable and continue to eat unhealthy food. That said, I no longer eat fast food. I will eat out once a week or every other week, but that is an extreme reduction compared to how I used to eat. I used to eat a nice greasy breakfast (which isn’t bad seeing as your metabolism is highest in the morning and gets it started early). I’d follow that up with a decent lunch from never just one fast food joint– usually two. I would hit up McDonald’s for two or three burgers (no joke), and then go to Taco Bell for a few tacos and nachos. Sick, eh? Dinner usually ended up being served up by Taco Bell and McDonald’s again. Totally sick. I saw Supersize Me but it apparently didn’t get to me much.

So. What will?

I am grateful for Comedy Central. This will be the first, and probably only, time which I will say such a ludicrous thing. I received my entire value from it, though, when I was watching George Lopez. He was pretty entertaining tonight, sans his obnoxious stereotypes of Mexicans and crackers, but then he was followed up by a morbidly obese Hispanic which caught my attention. He was featured on MySpace secret stand-ups (comedians) and once again, he was invading my life, and perhaps this happened for a reason. Presenting, the extremely greasy, fat, disgusting, filthy bastard known as Gabriel Iglesias:

Don’t get me wrong– I enjoyed his comedy, but for someone that huge to refer himself as “fluffy” is just sick. He’s not fluffy– he’s fucked up. There wasn’t a five-second period during the entire two-hour show that I didn’t think about his weight and how unhealthy this poor bastard must be…

He is now my source of extreme inspiration for weight loss. When I have reached my final goal (yet to be determined), I’ll write him a long letter, along with photos I will have taken along the way to my success, showing him that he can live a healthier life as well.

That said…

In the coming blogs, I will present my favorite clothing and accessories from my favorite design label, Diesel. I’m sorry that I am not a slave to Prada, D&G, or A&F. These brands irritate me, and are such clichés. I am grateful that I have better taste than those mentioned. To inspire me and others, I will be giving a new selection of clothing articles in each volume/edition of this series. Each selection will remind me to contribute to what I now call my Diesel Clothing Fund, and you are more than welcome to contribute, seeing as each set of 3 items will cost around $500 on average. This is an extreme goal, and this will be extreme weight loss.

I will be carrying around a picture of that fat greasy bastard, and may build my selection as time goes on. There are two very obese co-workers at my current job, and whenever I get a new phone with a working camera, I will take pictures and save them for easy access wherever I am, whenever I have an urge to gorge myself as I so often did and still somewhat do. It’s time for me to take control of the only part of me that upsets me.

I enjoy being a pretentious twit. I enjoy being selfish. I enjoy being a fucker. I enjoy the way I am. I enjoy being able to speak out. I like having an amazing speaking voice that some people mistake for apathy. I love not having to have sex with everyone to feel good about myself. I love still being able to appreciate the rest of me even though I don’t look fantastic on the outside. I long for the day that my current skills of being a bastard, fucker, bitch, come to equality with the outside me. Of course, you guys will love me then, because more attractive people get to be twits.

My plans are basically making more money by doing web design. This will be a lot easier once the economy improves (at least a little bit). I also look forward to perhaps moving up to a better position within the next year or two at my job, perhaps to the IT department. It would be nice to boost my salary by 125%, right? Ah, dreams, dreams. Let’s make this shit a reality. Whether you support me or not, I’ll be moving forward. I’d prefer if you don’t support me — it’ll make this shit a lot easier.

The only people that I know will support me every hour of every day are Eric and James. The rest of you can do as you please. Feel free to take this advice and mold it to your own liking. If anyone has any other supportive ideas, feel free to let me in on it! If it works well for me, I’ll be more than happy to give you a gift card to any restaurant or retail store of your choice ranging in various dollar amounts. I look forward to your ideas, and I hope you look forward to my continuing series, and next time, I’ll be providing more enticing pictures– I promise.

Here’s one pretentious prick signing off for tonight. I love you Eric, always. You will always be my brother. I love you, James, though you won’t see this for God knows how long. You’ll always be my boy.

I couldn’t help but flip back through the hundreds of comments on My Starbucks Ideas, a great site for customers who want to share their ideas with the world. I’ve run across a lot of great ideas (and voted for them once I registered on starbucks.com), such as rewarding frequent (“VIP) patrons with a discount, receiving a free drink on your birthday, and Starbucks‘ version of the Speedpass – a card you swipe with all the custom preparation requests you like for your morning kick. These ideas all satisfied me. One idea upset me a bit — making Starbucks ‘kid-friendly.’ One mother quipped with the notion that the only places with playgrounds that are kid-friendly are fast-food places. Gee. Go figure. A place where manners don’t matter. Who cares if your gut is hanging out? Amazing. These places were so generous to put ugly, bacteria-ridden play things to separate noisy children and their irresponsible parents. Go Mickey D’s.

So what’s the thing that triggered this blog? Simple: A penny.

From the ‘suggestion’ directly [direct link - do use caution; this page has over 475 comments, and some computers will be a-hurtin' for up to thirty seconds on this page]:

On March 11, 2008 an amazing Starbucks Barista named Sandra Andersen donated one of her kidneys to a regular customer named Annamarie Ausnes. Annamarie had Polycystic Kidney Disease (PKD), which is shared my 600,000 Americans and which causes your kidneys, over time, to fail. Either you need dialysis, where you are attached to a dialysis machine for 3 times a week for approximately 4 hours a session (resulting in huge blocks of time away from work or family), or you need to obtain a kidney donation (which are very hard to come by) or you die. The story of this remarkable gesture is available on www.cnn.com (search “Barista donates kidney to save customer’s life”.)

The PKD Foundation (www.pkdcure.org) is a 4-star not-for-profit (check them out on www.charitynavigator.com) dedicated to finding a cure for this deadly and common genetic disease. There are several clinical trials underway to try to find a cure for PKD but funding (most of which comes from the NIH) is difficult because many Federal programs are paying the price of a costly war. The PKD Foundation needs to find private funding sources to help fight this dreadful disease.

My program proposal is simply to create “A Penny to Fight PKD” Campaign at Starbucks. Every cup of coffee or tea at any Starbucks in the world would have a penny going to the PKD Foundation to help pay for research to cure PKD. That way, the noble gesture of someone like Barista Sandra Anderson won’t be needed to keep PKD-afflicted customers alive.

Thank you for reading my proposal and lending your voice in support.

Aww. This moved me so deeply… until I realized what a crock of shit this is. But–but Frederick! Edward! Whatever the hell your name is this year! How can you be so insensitive to a disease that almost no one has heard of, yet so many people seem to be aware of it on My S-bux Ideas?!

Oh. Well, here’s my comment:

Wow.

I think I scrolled through about 400+ comments and didn’t really find anything that outright disagreed.

This idea sucks.

@matmater: thank you for being honest. [He said that Starbucks shouldn't focus on just one cause and I agree.]

There are so many more illnesses out there. Why are we (a) doing just 1 cent, (b) limiting the donation to one disease, and (c) not mentioning all the other ‘silent killers’ like Alzheimer’s? Goodness.

I guess none of you have any family that have been affected by anything and that everyone you know is in perfect health, with exception to PKD, whatever that means.

Honestly, there are so many better causes. After donating hundreds of hours at Parkland Hospital (the Dallas county hospital here in Texas), I know that there are many other problems out there. All problems are equally important when they affect you, but this isn’t just you… there are so many sick people, and it’s so sad. Unfortunately, I think it’s better to say that we should focus on the greater good. CONGRATULATIONS. A Starbucks employee did something generous. How rewarding. How nice to turn it into a MARKETING PLOY so that Starbucks can, again, appear oh so never-ending generous, to infinite causes. Instead of buying a cup of coffee, why don’t you people try this..

YOU ARE NOW ALL GOING TO HATE ME…

How about you donate $3.00 to PKD for a year, and be done with it?

That’s essentially what you would be doing if you visited Starbucks every working day of every week, including (paid) holidays (and sorry- no vacation for you, you 5-cent donor!). Did anyone else not see this?

How about all the ladies who pop in once a week, perhaps on Saturday? Thank you, your generous donation of 52 cents a year will cure the grave illness which I still know nothing about. [I'm not saying it's not unimportant.]

I think this is a good way to publicize good deeds so that Starbucks can again try and lower prices through free advertising while saying that the economy is just too darned bad to lower the prices on their 92%+ profit margin drinks.

Seriously?

How about this. One day out of the year, the first day of the year, you can choose whether you want to take a penny away from each drink you order, or give your whole heart out (pun intended) and pay $6 for a drink instead of $3? Oh, you’re not a regular? Come in twice a week? Very well, sir, your coffee will be $2.50 instead of $1.

PLEASE PEOPLE– Do NOT say it’s small differences making a big difference.

How about this– donate an hour’s worth of your salary one day a year, and if you have a nice low-but-average salary, you will donate for over 6 years of your otherwise ‘generous’ donation.

Just ask people, “Would you like to donate $1 this week to the good cause [of the week/month]? Ask it on Mondays only. Ta-da… I’ve just increased your donations by 5,000%. Was that hard?

Seriously, people. You saw one lovely little idea, and didn’t even want to consider being generous on your own.

For everyone who goes 5x a week, go ahead and donate over 10-year’s worth of patronage to Starbucks in 5 minutes: [link to donate directly]

The minimum amount you can donate is 10 years… for those who venture in 1-2 times a week, it’s about 25-50 years, depending on how loyal you are to such a giving organization.

Thanks for reading this. I appreciate you all, and hope that this opened your eyes to see (a) what a crude, blunt, and honest person I am, and (b) how I have seen what goes on in hospitals, and (c) that there are so many more things wrong with the world that plague us as well. Please be generous. Small things can have big results, but something so insignificant will make that big result take 5,000% longer.

It sucks being so logical sometimes. You shake up everyone’s little snow globe and I don’t think they like that very much. To hell with them. They’ll get shaken, too, and I think that’s my point.

I left voice mails for two different people yesterday. I’m 100% sure they’ll (a) never read this blog entry and (b) never know I was talking about them. I left brief messages, because we all know that most of the time, voice mails are ignored– they’re now treated like a missed call from an unknown number. Who cares? It’s just a voice mail, most of us say.

I’m one of the few that actually will check their voice mail as soon as possible. I can usually answer my phone anywhere, whether at work, home, or school, depending on how important the lecture is… but sometimes, I just can’t answer fast enough. Thankfully, there’s such an invention as a voice mail, but most people don’t even bother to leave me voice mails. I guess they assume that I received their missed call notification, even though I may not have had service at that time, which may have explained why I didn’t answer the call…

…but perhaps we didn’t think about that.

On top of that, I love people’s surprised reactions when they don’t even realize that they have a voice mail, while others blatantly will tell you, “Oh, I never check my voice mail.” OK, so disable it. You can do that? Seriously? Why yes, you can! It’s pretty easy. Dial “611″ from your phone (without the quotes, heh) and ask for it to be removed. Simple as pie!

But why would anyone want to do that? Perhaps that message was important, or maybe it could be saved to blackmail one of your exes! Who knows? The possibilities are genuinely endless, but without a truly plausible scenario for a voice mail (or so it seems), the reason for voice mails on cell phones is depleting. Now, it seems, text messages are taking extreme precedence over the need for voice mail. With text messages, they usually will receive it within a few seconds (unless they are in a poor coverage area). I know with Sprint, sometimes it would take up to an hour to receive a text. GSM networks (T-Mo, Cingular, etc.) are just better with this kind of thing.

But I don’t think that text messages should replace voice mails completely as far as importance. I think you should check your voice mail… it’s just a respect thing. Wouldn’t you want someone to do that for you?

It seems like we’re all losing respect…

…but that’s for another blog.

CHECK Yo’ MESSAGES.

Rated TV-14 for Mature Language. Bitch.

It doesn’t matter if you know the details of who I’m referring to, or as to what instances I am mentioning.

It doesn’t matter that as I cry now, I am crying because of the past, of what has become of me and my relationships, and what is becoming of them now.

It doesn’t matter that I don’t matter, it seems.

Why does the world care so little about someone who cares so much?

Perhaps I should become like every other heartless “prick” that you ladies and gentlemen can’t seem to deal with or want around. But do you know why they exist? Do you?

You did it to them. You heartless fucks.

That’s right. You created the ass hole, the bitch, the motherfucker. You created these words and shaped their meanings, and breathed life into the very depths of their creation. YOU. It was you, and your heartless, thoughtless actions. Congratulations. Feel proud of yourself– you’ve created a human monster.

That’s OK, though. You’ve expected that people could one day treat you this way. You’ve become accustomed to your own mistakes, then? Perhaps.

One thing I am is honest. I will not lie to you. I will never break your heart by you finding out some disgusting truth of me after the fact. That’s not who I am. I am sometimes blunt, but that goes with truth. I will NOT lie to you. I may deceive you, but we are all a deceptive people. That’s how we try to get our way. It may not always work, but we try… I am real… something that most people forgot how to be. I’m not afraid to show what I’m feeling and what I’m thinking. Everyone else who decides to conform to the ideal ways of thinking will further this problem of things that don’t matter… because it’s not your problem, is it? It’s mine? Really? Really? Really. Interesting. NO!

It’s not my fucking problem that you didn’t know how to treat someone else, and now, you created a human monster.

How can you people say you care, but show so little regard for who or what you are, and so little respect for what I am and stand for?

Maybe I’m just bitchy. That’s it.

When you’re in my position, feel what I feel, and you won’t be second-guessing what I’m saying as much. I guarantee it.

So why are we so fake? I think it’s an American thing. We don’t want anyone to really see who we really are. Rather pathetic, but that’s OK. We’re just a pathetic body of piss sometimes.

Oh I love you all.

Whatever.

If you love me, then I love you.

Really?

Really?

Really.

Interesting.

We’ve all heard of “Why do you care?” We’ve probably said it many times in our lives before. But perhaps there is something there that we have not considered: the fact that we should be caring about what’s going on around us, and what’s being done for us… There’s so much that we are not aware of.

This entry is dedicated to the only person who could possibly understand this. You know who you are.
Regardless of who I may have dedicated this entry to, everyone can relate to it, so enjoy.

If you care, then perhaps life will be a little more difficult. Suddenly, you are aware of what’s gone wrong around you. Ignorance is still indeed bliss, but what is knowledge? Power? Heh. I don’t know about that one. Knowledge can be just as confusing as a lack of knowledge, and I think that’s why many of us try to not care.

We don’t even think it’s worth it.

We don’t think it’s important enough to pay attention to how someone may be affected by our actions. Even worse, for me, people don’t seem to care enough about me. Last resort actions never seemed to do the trick for me, either.

So just a word of advice. Why do you care? Hopefully you have a good reason… because I am pretty sure I do.

Do you like how I got straight to the point there? Well, even though I did, I chose a word that most people (including myself until ten minutes ago) aren’t familiar with: inutile. Sounds like futile, or… ceramic tile. But that’s beyond the point. The point is that I feel useless and it really, really sucks.

For the moment, I really have no close friends. I used to have just the right number of friends, but now, it feels like I have no one that I can share my most pathetic feelings with, and it hurts.

I don’t know why it hurts. Perhaps, as James told me, we are supposed to keep our sadness to ourselves. I’m not exactly sure on that one, but all I know is that this sadness is really getting to me. Maybe I’ll get some help for it around 3:30PM today. We’ll see, we’ll see…

Thank you for being here for me…

For those who aren’t here for me, but want to be… thank you.

For those who are temporarily not part of my life right now, you’re still in my thoughts. Don’t forget that.

Life is just so difficult sometimes. Why does it have to be? I thought life would get easier as you learned more. Ignorance is still Ace. Dammit.

Rated TV-14 for Foul-Mouthed (Mature) Language.

Some random, yet inspiring, Sex & The City quote: “Maybe our mistakes are what make our fate. Without them, what would shape our lives? Perhaps if we never veered off course, we wouldn’t fall in love, or have babies, or be who we are. After all, seasons change. So do cities. People come into your life and people go. But it’s comforting to know the ones you love are always in your heart.”

I was going to save that for last, but maybe if I hooked you with a good opener like that, you would be more likely to read this entry. Are you interested? Well, then, okay. Let’s find out what tonight’s blog is going to talk about.

Taking Chances. Well, if you read my past few entries, they all have something in common. Since I do respect the privacy of myself and people that are close to me, I would never reveal personal details as to what’s going on in my life. Honestly, I type these blogs out to help myself sort through my thoughts, because I ravage through painful emotions a lot, and I don’t know why, still… so without further ado, let’s make this and take this away from me, and make it into something for you, the reader of blogs.

Why is it that no one seems to risk shit anymore? It seems we are all so much more cautious in how we act. I remember I used to do pretty bold things in my life… now, not so much. I’ve sort of settled down into this pathetic adult norm where the norm is all that I follow. It’s tragic, really… but I think it’s more than just that.

I think the mistakes I lack in making are making my life lack life. So maybe the woman from SATC was right. Maybe mistakes do make our fate. Maybe mistakes help us figure out what’s right and wrong… can you deny it? Can you honestly say, “I regret making this mistake because I learned nothing from it”? Or do you simply say to yourself, at times, “I regret what I have done”? There is a large difference, and I think many of us don’t realize this.

As adults, we’re trained well. We are trained to achieve, yet somehow not make mistakes. Better yet, the person who makes the fewest mistakes will rise to the top soonest, and the seal wins the fish. So, why is it then that we learn from mistakes? Is this something we tell to people who just can’t get where they want to soon enough, so we came up with a phrase to help them feel better? I think not.

I think those who make the most mistakes have the most experience. The more experience you have, the more chances you have to do something right. So go ahead, everyone, and fuck some shit up. Take some chances. This is your life here… Don’t live in the future… Don’t worry about the past. Just live in the present, because it’s the only thing you have right now. Remember that… and you’ll carry on!

Results 1 – 10 of about 577,000.

I find this to be simply unacceptable. When I searched for the phrase, “No News Is Good News” on Google, I came up with that many results. Why is so widely believed that no news is good news? Perhaps we should report on the less significant things in life, because otherwise, our lives will seem fairly dreary. Maybe I’m just rambling, but I think it’s time that I blogged. Otherwise, I think life is rather a waste. When I can’t express myself, I can’t live, and what better way to express myself than through my personal blog?!

All right. If anyone knows me, and knows me well enough, you should be asking yourself, “Why this? Why now? What sparked this sudden interest in a revival of what is good?” Although that sounded like something you would hear in church, the point still stands. I’m making history here. It may not matter to you, but it matters to me, and I have said this time and time again. What we are is what we are, and the only way we can preserve our past is by logging it, or in this case, blogging. True, there are other ways to keep track of what’s going on in your life, but I think this is certainly one of the funnest ways to do so.

But I still haven’t told you why I was so interested in blogging hardXcore again… so we’ll thank Shaun for that. (Find a link to his MySpace to the right of this entry.)

A long time ago, Xanga was rather popular. I told myself that I didn’t want to have my shit hosted on another web site. Why? It was simple– I would not be able to keep my life (and its memories) on my own server space under my complete control. That meant that if the site was to shut down, what would happen to all of my writing? Would it just go away? Would no one be able to find it again? So I’m happy, knowing that I have control over my own space…

And amazingly, even after all that, I still haven’t told you why I was inspired to start writing regularly again.

The main reason is that it’s so much fun to go back and look through each little instance of your life, and see what was important at the time. Not only what was important to you, but what was important to those around you. I just think that everyone should blog. If you don’t, regularly, how else will you remember what you did last year around the 27th of January? Two years ago? Not only is it unique to see the changes you make in your life, but also the changes you make as you mature and learn from experiences.

I think that by opening up yourself to the world, it isn’t just a depressing form of repressed speech, a form where you feel like you cannot share what you are saying with others; but instead, a form of communication in which everyone is free to share it with someone else. So with that said, feel free to subscribe to my blog, and tell other people to subscribe as well! I’m happy that I have regular readers, but a lot of people have not subscribed in a long time. Let’s go, people.

Have a great day. We’ll see what I can make of mine.

This is a “Trash Entry“. It’s entirely useless and serves no value, but is moderately informative, so I’ll let it live so you can suffer through a pointless ensemble of complaints with information twisted into the end.

Rated “T” for Trash.

As you have most inevitably been informed by your co-worker, friend, teacher(s), bosses, family members, news, news, and … oh, the news, too, there is a WINTER BLAST headed STRAIGHT FOR US! Head for the hills, head for your cars, head for your homes! Old Man Winter is a-comin’ and he’s a-comin’ for you.

But seriously… How far is too far? How whiny is too whiny? How freaked out is too… freaked out? When will these rhetorical questions stop and the madness begin?!!?!??!?!…….. Uhm… Let’s see…

Now.

This is one of those blog entries where I act like a friendly moron, so if you were looking for something intelligent/insightful/other fancy “I” words here… look forward to my next blog entry, arriving tomorrow.

I was amazed that in most of my classes, at least 5-25% of the class time was taken up by talking about how cold and dangerous it’s going to be, as if we’re all newborns just emerging from the womb, just being exposed to the harshness of the elements of nature. Do we really need to be reminded so thoroughly, by everyone? People act like it’s the Apocalypse.

I am being a bit sarcastic, though. In Texas, it’s rare that we have to face such harsh, cold temperatures. To some, a high of 35F is just another day of winter, particularly those up North.

The cold weather does pose a number of unidentified-by-most threats that you should consider. Be careful with the roadways. Tomorrow isn’t much of an issue, but Friday will be. Also, make sure your pipes are all patched up and faucets near windows should be left to drip slowly… but you already know this, I’m sure…

That’s all for now…