It will snow this evening. It will snow tomorrow. It will snow Sunday.

One of these statements is true. I am not sure which is true, but I know when the snow finally comes, I'll put on my boots and walk around through the winter-crunch. I might think the snow is really great, and it'll boost my already nearly-giddy holiday spirits. This will last for five minutes until I remember shoveling and storm-related automobile accidents and dealing with it.

Portland is prettiest the weeks before the first snow where it is so cold, you wince while walking through the chill, but not yet cold enough to crystalize the moisture in your lungs. There are all sorts of lights hung up around town and attractive boys are swearing their nicest sweaters while beautiful women walk around in long skirts, Mary Janes and thick scarves.

Today, while at the Laundromat, I got into a fight with a woman about an unoccupied drier. I needed to dry my clothes, there was one drier left, and she told me she had planned on using that drier, in addition to the three others she had lined up for use. Her husband intervened and asked her to keep her voice down. He did this several times, especially when I lifted her shirt a little, exposing to the other store patrons her absurdly fat stomach, and made pig noises.

"Oink Oink, little piggy. Get the fuck away from my drier."

And her husband told her to keep her voice down.

It is easy to accomplish anything once you realize no one has the cock to stand in your way.