Let’s just get this shit over with

The San Francisco Giants have made it into the playoffs in spite of a shoddy second-half record on account of a shaky bullpen.  The NL West champion Los Angeles Dodgers simply couldn’t step on their throats hard enough to keep them out of the playoffs, and they’ll have nobody to blame but themselves when they sitting at home while the Giants take out whichever team is unfortunate enough to make it out with the American League pennant.

That’s right, it is a foregone conclusion.  The MLB Playoffs don’t even have to be played really.  It’s just a formality at this point. 

Being an even year, and the Giants have gotten into the playoffs, it’s a lock, a guarantee, that the Giants are going to win the World Series.

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My tolerance for cooler weather is gone

I knew it was going to inevitably happen, considering I grew up with four true seasons every year for 21 years.  And then moving to Georgia where the summers are brutal and the winters are supposedly mild, it was only a matter of time before the tolerance for cooler weather would begin to gradually chip and eat away at me, before I would inevitably look at a particular temperature and go “god damn it’s cold.”

Well, I’m there now, I think officially.  Granted, 37F degrees in October is slightly low on the spectrum of arriving fall weather, but it’s gotten to the point where I have yet to switch my home’s thermostats over to “heat,” and my home’s temperature is dropping into the low 60s, and my bedroom which is over the garage, creeps into the 50s, leading my to wake up cold and blurting expletives when stumbling out of bed in order to hit snooze.

The point remains, I’m easily cold now, vastly more than I used to be in the past.  Sure, I was more conditioned, not to mention my body’s composition was slightly tubbier back then, so say what you want about the insulating properties of blubber, but now, I’m furrowing my brow when it drops into the low 60s outside, and anything equivalent within my home is becoming “too fucking cold.”

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The worst kind of postponing

Long story short: Georgia woman on death row, scheduled to be executed on February 25, 2015 lives to see another few days on account of inclement weather postponing the execution.

This is of course, the woman I brogged about almost two weeks ago, whose requested last meal consisted of some Burger King Whoppers and a whole shitload of buttermilk and buttermilk products, and I accused of basically trying to turn herself into a Left 4 Dead boomer.  So that her goal was to get fat, bloated, and full of gross disgusting waste for her to expel upon expiration, in an attempt to get the final laugh against the legal system that saw fit to put her to death for murdering her husband nearly 20 years ago.

Anyway, I can’t help but feel that this had to have been a devastating blow to the boomer-to-be here.  Sure, there’s the perspective of that she’s going to get a few extra days before the re-scheduled execution, but to me, that’s a few extra days to wallow in misery and postponed dread of maybe possibly having accepted death, only for it to be drug out for another four days.  After all, the state did deny her final bid for clemency, I can’t imagine that a few extra days is going to make anyone change their minds.

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Nine degrees

Cold enough to where if I want to mention it, I have to write out the number, because in conventional writing, single digits are treated in such a manner.

Seriously, nine degrees? Granted, I don’t dislike the cold, but even for me, this is a little bit of frigid.

The scary thing is that I remember the last time it hit single digits, and it was around this time last year; it was like seven degrees when I got back from Las Vegas, and my car’s ignition was definitely labored in the face of the bitter cold. Subsequently, within the next few weeks that arctic snap would also result in the Snowpocalypse which crippled the city under two inches of snow and a sheet of ice, making Atlanta the laughing stock of the planet for a quick breeze.

I’m reluctant to bring that part up, because frankly I’d rather not go through it again, despite the fact that there were hundreds of people that probably had it way worse than I did.

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This is what is crippling Atlanta this week

It’s hard to tell from this shot of my backyard, but although it doesn’t look like a whole lot, there’s a lot of ice coating everything. This ice has managed to knock out all the power in my neighborhood and this has been the case for the last four hours.

I’m posting this from my warm bed, where I will remain for the next few hours, reading books I guess. While I have some daylight, I may as well get started on the 924 page behemoth, Haruki Murakami’s 1Q84. And when I lose daylight, then it’s iPad kindle.

geeg Mother Nature, geeg.

You spoony weather!

I am working from home today, on account of offices being closed due to inclimate weather.  It’s certainly chilly outside, and there’s constant rain falling, but it’s not exactly the Icepocalypse that the weather was condemning.  Supposedly the brunt of this current polar snap is going to be tomorrow, and that it will be no laughing matter then.

I can’t really complain though.  Given the embarrassment of massive proportions suffered by the city and state from Snowpocalypse a few weeks ago, I’m not the least bit surprised to see the state going the route of hyper-sensitive and preemptively reactionary as opposed to sitting on their thumbs and letting the entire state turn into the joke of the entire world all over again.

Speaking of jokes though, I couldn’t resist.  Feeble Tellah dropping the piddly Ice-1 onto the city for massive damage seems about right in my perspective.  When the day is over, it’s still going to be ice, and the State of Georgia will really never be able to prepare for it, aside from doing what they can to make sure people stay indoors and off the roads.

But at least I don’t have to change out of sleep clothes, and can relax a little bit as long as no assignments come through the work email.

Still stuck at home on account of Snowpocalypse

This is a picture of the outside of my house.  If you notice, the ice on the roads has melted a good bit, yet precisely where the asphalt of the street begins right outside of my driveway, the ice has not melted, and is still somewhat thick.  My office has been closed for two days now and I’m fairly confident that they will be open tomorrow, but the thing is that this ice directly in front of my driveway is still going to be somewhat complicating, especially in the early AM hours when I am expected to be heading to work.

It doesn’t look like a lot of ice to traverse to get back onto solid asphalt, but the thing is that it’s going uphill, and my car is front-wheel drive and compact (read: lightweight); there’s no guarantee that it will be an easy task.  Conversely, I could always go downhill, and loop around on another side street of my suburban sprawl, but what’s not seen in the picture is how much further beyond my house that the ice continues to be present, all on a downhill.  I’ve seen cars sliding down my street in the past, and I’d rather not be one of them myself.

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