Blizzard of Oh-Five Update

I'm Snow Miser...who is the BEYATCH now!?!

A harsh 23 centimeters of snow has completely socked in much of Central Virginia and the Shenandoah Valley.

This morning, I walked into the 1030 Intro to Political Science class and all the kids were grouped over at the window, grinning and jabbering like squirrels on whippets. I mean, it could very well have been one of those Mutual of Omaha's where Jim brings some bush tribesman who speaks in clicks to Antarctica, and the guy is standing there in awe of the sky slowly falling to pieces. Once I got them herded into their seats, I climbed on a chair, took down the clock from the far side of the room, and propped it up on the windowsill, so they wouldn't crane their necks as if at the Wimbeldon Finals, swinging back and forth between snow and time. Then, to be particularly sneaky, I performed the teaching version of the combover: I moved the lectern in front of the window, so I could convince myself that they were looking with rapt attention at ME, completely ensconced in my scintilating pearls of wisdom being brought forth on the American party system and the concept of realignments.

I bugged out right after the last class, and after a somewhat tricky drive home (someone needs to explain to the jackasses who drive Ford Pequods that four wheel drive does not give them an exemption to the law F=M*A) stopped at the grocery store. Because the Commonwealth of Virginia owns approximately one snow plow, 23 centimeters of snow can easily translate into a couple of days off from school. Needless to say, therefore, we needed to stock up on the four essentials: fixings for chili, fixings for ice cream sundaes, fixings for pancakes, and vast quantities of adult beverages.

I also stopped for movies. I got A Christmas Story, Mona Lisa Smile, and Ocean's 12---kids flick, chick flick, dad flick. On Friday I rented Bad Santa along with Napoleon Dynamite, but was only able to watch about 45 minutes of it. Basically, I needed to laugh until I fell off the couch at the utter absurd vulgar crudity of it all, turning it off when it showed the first signs of developing a story line of redemption. But I was struck how much the inklings of the Bad Santa motif were taken straight out of A Christmas Story, perhaps one of the great Christmas movies of them all.

You'll shoot your eye out kid!

I'll liveblog it when we watch tomorrow afternoon.

And now, in honor of the Great Blizzard of December 2005, I give you the lyrics to the Snow Miser song:

[Snow Miser]
I'm Mister White Christmas
I'm Mister Snow
I'm Mister Icicle
I'm Mister Ten Below
Friends call me Snow Miser
What ever I touch
Turns to snow in my clutch
I'm too much!
[Chorus]
He's Mister White Christmas
He's Mister Snow
[Snow Miser]
That's right!
[Chorus]
He's Mister Icicle
He's Mister Ten Below
[Snow Miser]
Friends call me Snow Miser,
What ever I touch
Turns to snow in my clutch
[Chorus]
He's too much
! [Snow Miser]
I never want to see a day
That's over forty degrees
I'd rather have it thirty,
Twenty, ten, five and let it freeeeEEEEEEeeze!
[Chorus]
He's Mister White Christmas
He's Mister Snow
[Snow Miser]
That's right!
[Chorus]
He's Mister Icicle
He's Mister Ten Below
[Snow Miser]
Friends call me Snow Miser,
What ever I touch
Turns to snow in my clutch
... too much.
[All]
Too Much!

Coming up tomorrow: our relentless vote mongering continues, replete with the Melissa Theuriau pshop reason to vote LLamabutchers of the day. Plus, cheap shots at Wonkette AND Andrew Sullivan in the same day!

And what do YOU want for Christmas little boy....?

Who needs an official Red Ryder carbine-action 200-shot range model BB rifle with a compass in the stock when you've got Arafat giftwrapped in hell?