No More Ice-Breakers

For the last several days, I have been busting, cracking, shoveling, melting, tossing, cursing, stomping, and begging the three-inch-thick layer of ice lain upon my world. My hands are blistered and trembling. And after all I have done, there is still more ice, mocking me. Yes, it mocks. It groans with sarcasm as I approach it with my garden shovel.

We'll see who laughs tomorrow when my new employees arrive to finish the work. Who have I hired, you ask? Well, well, WELL! Let me clear my throat!


Asashoryu, having not much else going on, is on the way to spread salt upon the ice and stomp it into unrighteous bits.



These Irish Cloggers are also en route from parts unknown. Well, unknown parts of Wisconsin. They are sure to break up the bigger parts of the sidewalk.

Finally, the stompiest solution to my problems, if the first two can't cut it....


If Savion Glover can't break up the frozen waste that is my property line, then I give up. Nature, you win.