A Frozen House of Horrors

“April is the cruelest month.”

No, Mr. Eliot, you fucking bonehead, April is a great month because it’s getting warm and the sticky black psychosis is draining from my brain and out of my nose. That’s because I’ve made it through another piece of shit winter in Maryland.

You can’t sell me on the “beauty” of winter. If you like winter, then you have human body parts hidden all over your house. You have probably chopped off someone’s hands and have screwed them into your shower for a unique soap holder.

Don’t sell me on winter sports and skiing and enjoying nature. When your balls have shrunk to the size of ball bearings and your nose is running like the BBQ dispenser at Andy Reid’s home, you are not having fun.

My favorite line about winter was uttered by the incomparable Bill Murray: “It’s gonna be cold. It’s gonna be grey. And it’s going to last you the rest of your life.”

Pure poetry, my friends.

We all know that The Shining is probably one of the most uplifting movies ever to be shot. It’s full of family fun, murder, hallucinations, a tsunami of blood, degenerates in dog costumes, axes going through people, and Scatman Crothers’ apartment with that naked picture.

It’s also crammed with lessons in parenting, and believe me I’ve considered using them.

And when it comes to living in my house during the cold months, it’s spot on. Tensions are always high, and the dull, dragging atmosphere is broken by blood curdling screams, anger, fighting, and blood.

Staying sane in Maryland during the shit season is impossible.

The first go to is always, and forever will be, liquor. I have a 20 gallon aquarium with an authentic pioneer age ladle – basically a hollowed out skull of a syphilis ravaged salesman from St. Louis – that I use to drink from. Why bother fucking around with a glass or mug

The dog has become a distraction, yet it’s unwelcome. With the ground too frozen to dig holes, she’s managed to destroy anything that’s remotely chewable.

We have a laser pointer that drives her crazy – my sons beam it on the opposite wall of where she’s sitting, causing her to go sliding across the kitchen to only smash into the wall. Yes, that’s cruel and yes, we have holes in our kitchen walls.

Movies and streaming shows are another solution. I’ve found that Amazon Prime Video offers content with horrible production values and laughable stories. Roku’s selection of oddball channels is hilarious.

Horrors of Spider Island is a horror in itself.

I love to read. Thanks to Book Flies Open I have been able to momentarily escape from this penitentiary. While I love “real books”, that fucking dog has ended those purchases. Walking into a room to discover a shredded hardcover book, with pages hanging out of that mutt’s jaws is too much to handle.

Of course, you can always be social and interact with people in the real world. Nope. People are fucking idiots, including those I know. Family is out of the question – on both sides – one day I’m going to write a post that profiles the people I’m related to by blood and marriage.

COVID has destroyed any chance of going to local attractions, like the Baltimore Museum of Guns, Ammo, and Shanks or the always satisfying Tour of Rat Infested Alleys. If you’re lucky, you can also see decomposing bodies shoved under liquor bottles, mattresses, and syringes.

Bars are out. Restaurants are out. The latter doesn’t both me because ever since I was a kid, I have loathed going out to eat, unless it’s the Prime Rib.

The bar is populated by the rich and weird, the steaks make you cry, and they serve vodka that has been flavored by pineapples. Fuck going to heaven, I could spend eternity in that joint.

It was once proposed to my in laws that we eat there, the response was, “Nope, it’s full of Jews and gays.”

Okay, that’s not a quote. But it could have been. If I had to bet, I’d lay down $500.

In our basement is a set of weights and a treadmill. My middle son is using both, and his fucking arms are like tree trunks. He will kill me one day using a headlock. Certain family members have suggested I make use of these machines. Yes, dying in my own home from a cerebral hemorrhage is one of my dreams.

So, there’s nothing to do but wait for spring. Of course, me and my old pal Depression make time for one another. The gray skies, frozen air, dead grass, and my jobless situation make for excellent discussions.

That’s winter in Maryland. Summer will be here soon. Have I told you how much that season sucks in this state?