Can You Feel It?

The outdoor temperature reading on my dash this evening read a balmy 16 degrees. Add to that the wind chill…and it’s “Welcome to New Hampshire”!

Only, we live in New Yawk…where the attitude is high and our tolerance is low…

We are now officially in that dreary three-month span of winter where indoor activities are a requirement in order to find any source of amusement. (Minds out of the….oh, what the hell. If you can get it…go for it. How else are you going to fill the next one hundred lackluster evenings?)

It’s important during these winter months to remember to dress in a way that is business appropriate, whilst preventing one's family jewels…or ta-tas (accordingly) from receiving permanent freezer burn and taking on that unappealing, unsightly shade of grey.

Therefore, based on my extensive expertise on the subject of seasonal trends…or was it seething expends…(wait…what does that even mean?) may I present-

Clinton Kelly (You-know-who): “What? Stop. You’re kidding…tell me you’re kidding…you’ve got to be kidding…”

Kathryn: (Grinning) “Allo, mate! Eye-m soopah appy you’re ‘ere! Now, give a big ‘ole smooch to me now-a wontcha?” (Said in the most God-awful Australian accent ever.)

CK: “Excuse me? What is wrong with you? What are you talking about?”

K: (Switches to nasal, high-pitched Julia Childs) “Why I’ve no idea what you’re referring to, dahling. I’m merely providing our faithful readers with the tools necessary to navigate this tremulous season with dignity…and panache.”

CK: “Is that supposed to be Miss Piggy? ‘Cause it sounds like Miss Piggy.”

K: (Switches seamlessly to a Godfadda-Mafioso-accent) “You bedda watch dat mouth, buddy. Or, you’ll find yaself swimmin’ wit da fishes…do ya hear wat I’m sayin’ to you?”

CK: “Yes, I hear you…I’m just going to unlock the front door for those men in the white coats.”

K: (Sings) “They’re coming to take me away, ha-ha…they’re coming to take me away, ho-ho….he-he, ha-ha…to the funny farm…”

CK: “Are you even listening to yourself? Seriously?”

K: (Trippy-hippy) “Listen, man….you’re, like….way too uptight. Don’t ya ever want to just let your hair down and be…like, cray-zee? Just let it all hang out, man……”

CK: (Looks through squinty-cornflower-eyes in concentration) “So, for the record…HOW MUCH DID YOU TAKE? I’ll need to inform the medics when they arrive.”

K: “I’m shocked. Appalled…aghast!” (Whispers: “Can’t you see how hard I’m attempting to distract our readers from the rather significant reality that I’ve no clue how to advise them on this essential matter?”)

CK: “Vous êtes complètement fous. Mais Je t'aime quand même.”

(Loosely translated: “You are completely insane. But I love you anyway.”)