A Thank You to the Dillhole That Parked in My Freshly Shoveled Parking Spot

By Tresckow

It snowed on Monday. That was great. I needed a day off from the collective (that's a code word for "the office" for you non Borg fans...if there are any). I had my doubts that the snow was coming at all. I mean, after all, I live in one of the shittiest environments in the country.

Yeah, something like this, but worse.

But it snowed, even if only six inches. Six inches of snow doesn't mean much to me. I went to school within one of the Great Lake snow belts. Six inches of snow was laughable. Seriously. If you called off or work or missed a class for six inches of snow you better have had one of your feet amputated with a potato peeler.

Above: Still no excuse.

Six inches of snow is enough to get this state's panties in a bunch. Six inches of snow. I'm just wondering how many more times during this article I can type that phrase.

I spent about an hour or so shoveling out a perfect rectangular section in the street for my car. It was beautiful. I would have taken a picture of it, but I had no idea where my camera was at the time. I even shoveled the parking spot for my neighbor. I rock! After a job well done I went back into the house to a nice warm glass of Irish whiskey. What? Isn't that usually the drink of choice on a cold day? Philistines.

I've been known to partake in a jug of whiskey WHILE shoveling.

I went to work the next day, after finding out that "snow trauma" wasn't a good enough excuse to take another day off. After a long day with the other drones (see.. another Borg reference.. are you following yet?) I came home to have another tall glass of tasty Irish whiskey or, as I like to call it, "escape from the real world water." But what do I find when I pull in front of my abode? A dillhole has parked into my perfectly shoveled space.

I have no idea who this band is, but they obviously rock.

I guess what really cooked my bacon was the fact that this jackhole ignored the surrounding spots, snow filled and otherwise. I guess the "reserved" sign and skull and crossbones placard left some room for confusion. It must have been like God, himself, freed the space of snow just for him. It truly was a miracle!

That poor, damn cat.

The cherry on this smelly crap layered sundae was the fact that this asshat doesn't even live in the neighborhood. Suppressing my undeniable urge to encase his shitty Mitsubishi in a white, icy snow coffin, I simply cursed his vehicle every time I looked out the window. Sure, in retrospect, I probably should have done something all gangsta like. But, that sort of thing doesn't normally fly in real world "suburbia."

Although, some ideas did come to mind.

So, I'd like to thank that Mitsubishi driving chucklehead. I wrenched my back, lost feeling in my feet, and shoveled my ass off for you to steal my parking spot. Thank you for your kindness. Thank you for your decency. Thank you for being a total douche bag. I can't promise that the next time I see your car I won't jam gum in the locks, Clerks style.

Am I the only person that doesn't think Rosario Dawson (Clerks II) is that hot? I'd take Eliza Dushku over her any day.

Six inches of snow...