eleven.

ice storm?
F*ing right.
right on schedule.
and just in time.
everything looks sort of amazing,
and all of it feels completely flippin' awful.
it's liquid terror out there y'all.
the roads are pure sh!t,
the rain is pouring down in gory gouts of skyfall,
and all those gallons and gallons are going nowhere,
and all of it is freezing on contact.
what's that?
oh, yes, indeed,
the hill i live up on never gets sanded or plowed before noon...
and yes,
that means i took another 'nother breakneck spinout
out-of-control momentum building express slide
into a snow bank all over again!
c'mon.
of course it did.
nature seems intent on breaking my new hottness.
it's not enough that it always wins,
it has to be a poor sport and really run up the score.
nice.
***********
and in the midst of this slippery slidey-ness?
yeah.
check the date, neighbors-
eleven.
that's today.
so,
in order to give propers to the doctor,
i repped my sonic screwdriven sexy bits hard today.
yeah.
check the re-TARDIS-type teleport:

who?
indeed...
oh' c'mon,
you like it.
but what's up then?
i mean,
formal attire just to sit at job and not work all day?
expert.
hard styles keep piling up, kids.
it's all really happening,
elements and implements reducing me to a future in tenements;
never quiet, never soft.....