solafiamma: (Default)
Dear effing asshat who stole our snow shovel last night,

I hope you managed to dig your car out or shovel your walk or bury your corpse or whatever it was you needed to do that was obviously so much more important than my car and my walk and my corpse.

I like to think that you knew we had a back-up shovel and wouldn't have to resort to attacking our steps and path with mixing spoons, although I rather suspect you didn't. I suppose if I were of a Pollyanna bent, I'd be finding gladness in the fact that you didn't purloin the back-up shovel too, but since my hands and wrists and back are now a gibbled, ache-y mess from having to wrestele with the much heavier metal shovel, my gladness quotient is hovering around the zero mark right about now.

Dude, we would have happily loaned you the shovel if you'd just asked. Right now, I'd happily whack you in the back of the head with it.

Fuck you very much,

Sola

ETA: "Wrestele" is the Italian word for "wrestle". No, really.

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solafiamma

May 2011

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