Lazy Bucky's quickies (snow advisory edition)

• A headline that will live in infamy, found here:
  Historic beef recall: West Michigan schools pull meat
  
  I hope they're not all doing it at once; we'd run out of Kleenex!
  
  Addendum: Apparently, someone at the news site was paying attention, because the headline was changed to something less masturbatory. Damn, I wish I'd gotten a screen capture of that!
  
  
  
• My Sweet P got auf'd last week on Project Runway. I'll bet she wins the fan favorite competition, though. If you don't like Sweet P, we're gonna rumble. Of course, you'll easily beat my ass, but I will put up a pitiful but heartfelt fight to defend Sweet P's honor.
  
  
• This winter it's snowing here like it did when I was a kid. I'm nostalgic about a lot of things, but getting dumped on repeatedly with ridiculous amounts of snow is not on that list. After a couple of days where the weather wasn't sure which outfit to wear, the rainy one or the snowy one, my driveway looks like a tiny mountain range, and a blizzard is a-brewin' as I type. I almost let the neighbors see how graceful I was when I walked to the mailbox on sheer ice Sunday (if anyone was looking, they did get to see a fair amount of flailing followed by a sheepish grin).
  
  
• If any gamers here haven't played GTA: Vice City Stories yet (I know, the game is old news...but I like my games that way, old and cheap), I urge you to rent it just to listen to the VCPR station on the radio. The radio plays alone are worth the price of admission. "What's that whistling? Pablo, you old dog!"
  
  
• Speaking of which, I am currently being driven absolutely bat-shit crazy by a helicopter mission where I have to lower a magnet onto a stationary object (tricky enough where it's situated between buildings), then a box on the back of a slow-moving truck (tougher still), and finally, bitchiest of them all, a whole moving car (the car is moving fast, too, because it's being chased by bikers with machine guns, and I have to pick it up before the car explodes from all the gunfire). So far, the guy in the car is a dead man every time. The moral of this story is: never hire me to be your helicopter bodyguard.
  
  
• I'm going to be trapped in a blizzard with no beer and no Coca-Cola. It's a damned good thing I stocked up on chilled monkey brains.
  
  
• My last name isn't actually Barzedor - it's my pen name, if you will (my keyboard name?). I realize not everyone is familiar with the phrase upon which my name is a play. Katy Barzedor is a twist on the phrase "Katy bar the door!" which means, roughly, hunker down 'cause the shit's about to hit the fan. Now you know. (The "Katy" part is totally real, though, I promise!)
  
  
• Also, in the interest of full disclosure, I should point out that I am not a millionaire, and I own neither a mansion nor a yacht. Yet.