Hey from the Windy City!!

Boy, when they say windy, their not talkin’ ’bout a room full of politicians. I’m sittin’ in a twenty-two thousand pound truck, and I’m rocking like I was in grandmaw’s chair. My nose is blue, my ears is blue, my fingers is blue, My bloody toes is blue!! There something else blue, but I won’t go into it. (they bury people who are blue, don’t they?) I need some heat!! A fire, a match, some bloody Ben Gay, SOMETHING! If’n I don’t thaw out purdy soon, their gonna shove a broom up my butt and serve me up as TRUCK DRIVER on a STICK!

You know down in Texas (where people got good sense) we keep this kind weather locked up in a little box, we call it THE FREEZER!! But Nooooo! Up here they let this crap run around loose. The rivers is froze, the lakes is froze, the roads is froze, the toilets is froze, MY SNOT IS FROZE!! I’m pickin’ ice cubes outta my nose. Please don’t sneak up behind me and say boo!! Are my bloody pants a be froze.

I slam the door on my truck, and it shattered, and broke in to little pieces, man was I relieved when it turned out to be a layer of ice. I live in an Igloo. I’m a bloody Eskimo!! With a Texas draw. Get me the hell outta here!!

Your favorite Eskimo ©

George Henry Nichols