Neckbeard vs. Purple Jesus

The Bears are in Minnesota for MNF tonight, and I've got a little wager riding on the game: top seed in the Annual Wolta Christmas Madden Tournament. Securing that (and the good controller without the wonky circle button) probably the only chance I'll have to rebound from my dismal showing last year.

In other news: How hard did this weekend rule? Way, that's how. Saturday night, 'bout midnight, Sweetpea and I bundled ourselves up and headed out to frolic in the snowy park across the street. And frolic we did: We made snow angels, attempted a snowman, got silly on the slides, and stamped out filthy messages we hoped would eventually be discovered by the giant sheepdog and its owners across the park. Oh, gosh, it was such great fun to just be goofy and carefree with SP. That girl's a real treat.

What else? Well, this morning there was a big flatbed truck from the condo construction across the alley idling outside my window and in less than 20 seconds my kitchen was filled with the chokey blue smog of diesel exhaust. It was pretty fucking nasty, but, silver lining, I've been scheming the get out of my lease for the past three months and I think this could push my case over the edge. If not, I'm prepared to lie like a dog to untangle myself from this lease. I've got big, forch plans for my housing free agency.