Cooler Than A Polar Bear's Toenails

This is a screen cap from 6:30pm. F*ck.

Overheard at the track clinic this morning:

"You know the Indians had to have settled here in July. There's no other way. You know the Chief walked them up here, showed them the plentiful land, the great nights, the ample water supply, and they were loving it. They even named things after the Chief on his great discovery. Then, in the winter, they banded together and killed the Chief."

The guy they brought in to speak about the pole-vault was from Arizona. He said he'd never come back to speak in Wisconsin, unless they moved the clinic to the summertime.

But still not as cold as a few years back. One fine winter day, I awoke at college to find out they cancelled classes that day. Temperatures were hovering around the negative 18 to negative 20 that morning, when I received a phone call from B.O.B. My father was more than happy to let me know that it was a full one hundred degrees warmer where he was, than where I was. He was in Arizona at the time, and it was around eighty degrees when he called. He thought it was hilarious.

Although, once it gets below zero, does it really matter? When your nipples can cut glass at the mere thought of going outside, why keep score? It's not like you can feel the difference between negative two, and negative fifteen.... YOU CAN'T FEEL SH*T!!! How the hell did the Indians ever live here? Or even back in Civil War times, when there was no insulation, no central heating, no space heaters, no electric blankets, or gore-tex jackets? Why did they not just pick up and move to the south??

I ask all that, and meanwhile, my buddy Josh is prolly outside salting his driveway in his shorts, and Nort is wishing there was a football game in the state of Wisconsin that he could attend this evening. They're f*cking nuts.