Welcome to the Dessert of the Real

Why does it snow sideways in central Ohio? You'd think that with the standard effect of gravity on all things big and small, standing under an awning to smoke my smoke would protect me from the ice crystals. In a vacuum tube a feather and a bowling ball will fall at the same rate. But they fall down.

Yesterday was supposedly the most depressing day of the year, according to some article I read on the Internet while trying to pretend I was working. I don't think it snowed yesterday.

Oh well. The day is young, I'm calling it quits very early today since I have night meetings the whole week, and the entire day is ahead of me. What should I do with the time? Knit an afghan? Learn fencing? Stow away on a train so I can see what the train-graffiti people really look like?

I had to wait on a train on the way to work today. Written on the side of one of the passing cars was the message "Fuck George Shaw!". Who the hell is George Shaw? And why does someone hate him enough to publicly curse him on the side of a military transport train? It makes me wonder where he lives, and if he has any idea that people in Plain City are thinking about him.

It also makes me wonder if there's any graffiti out there publicly accusing me of some lewd or savage act. How would I know? Maybe there's a semi truck somewhere in New Mexico saying I like to make love to animals. And I would never know.

Off in search of personally-libelous graffiti.