When it comes to winter I find myself rendered pretty much useless as I try to slog my way through filthy slush, power losses, school closings and non existent garbage pick up.
It is a gray barren stretch of bleak nothingness, a world replete with cold and depressed inhabitants trying to stay above frigid water until the warmth of spring arrives.
To put it simply; winter I fucking hate you.
However, if there ever comes a time when I need to don a giant fur hat and boots with my jumpsuit fashioned from the tanned hide of a local ox to begin dealing with the next ice age I might take comfort in knowing that when I ride into the neighboring village I could be doing it on the back of my newly cloned Wooly Mammoth.
You see, dear reader, I’ve always had a simple vision. It involved never stretching beyond the boundaries where you are still capable and on solid ground but all that has changed.
Soon enough you’ll see the return of the Attila the Hun school of survival and be joining the local tribe of villagers who can hunt and forage for berries on the frozen tundra. Your mate will be the hairy fellow with the biggest club and the toastiest cave and the cookbook in your stone nook with be filled with recipes that are easy to make over an open flame.
So, to sum up.
I want to smash winters face in with an old-fashioned metal shovel and knock out all its teeth.
Scientists are working hard at this very moment to clone an ACTUAL wooly mammoth.
I can’t wait to dress in a fur bikini.
Picture of my war Mammoth courtesty of http:animal.discovery.com