Does going through a(Polar) Vortex through HELL just to warm up my 'nads cause me to have a cold heart?

Here I am, shuddering over this ongoing Polar Vortex weather crap, which has made this winter one of the most unforgiving season in recent memory. Not since my childhood have I cuddled up under the sheets, sometimes with the help of a small heating pad, to keep my ass warm. The heater is a joke. If you were an inch away from it, you'd feel a little better now. All that's been going on in the news is the severe winter effects for most of the country. The southwest, not affected by the vortex, yet they have had some serious droughts with the warm weather. Can you say water shortages?

Sunday, Feb 2 will not only be Super Bowl Sunday, but also Groundhog Day. That stupid groundhog Punxatawney Phil will take a minute in the chilly Pennsylvania air, then he'll say "the hell with this!" Six more weeks of this b.s. Only an idiot would think Bill Murray could suffer so much! (By the way, that movie is available on Crackle.com as I type this. Keep in mind 3/4 of the movie was shot in Woodstock,IL.) He didn't predict the weather to be anything like this! What does that Farmers' Almanac mention that we'd go through some serious HELL this winter? Or do we as human beings have to sell our soul just to right the wrongs in our life? 

I haven't even been to a choir rehearsal this year because of this weather. I sure as hell don't want to leave the comfort of my warm bed to venture out into the cold evenings just to practice ringing a bell or two and rehearse a song or two with the small yet vocal sanctuary choir. Was this a sign that I needed to get over my occasional bouts with cabin fever? Jury is still out on that one. That brings me to what I am going through now. How can some folks just be so happy-joy-joy in their lives when I seem to be a one-person dark cloud on a sunny day? It can irritate me more than seeing African-American Republicans! You would have to physically light a blow torch or something up my black ass just to try to get me motivated. Thank God I still have soup here. I'm almost out of oatmeal, so I'll need a refill next week.

Would you believe I didn't have hot water at this place to take a badly-needed shower and to keep me warm-blooded? Turns out, the pipes at this motel needed to be changed due to this vortex. You DO know they occasionally freeze, right? Then I see the flock of ducks in this little stream outside my window. They have some serious foie gras on them that is keeping them as toasty as an oven mitt. I saw steam coming up from the underground canals. Lucky bastards! We human beings feed them whatever from bread crumbs to popcorn to last month's spoiled vegan lasagna to these creatures and watch them crowd you like Black Friday at Walmart.

Can anyone tell me why it feels like we have aged 40 years in 30 days after what we've been going through? This is still January 2014, right? Have I accomplished anything yet? Melissa Harris-Perry is still on tv, right? She's speaking to Harry Belafonte, legendary activist (DAY-O!!) and actor. Can't believe he is 87 years old. Looks good. He created the song  We Are The World, which came out 30 years ago. Shit, time has flown so much. I was telling my friend Gary that a lot of great flicks came out back in 1984. One of them, The Terminator with Ahnold Schwarzenegger, actually came out on my birthday, October 26...a Friday! Seriously. I looked it up on Wikipedia. Too bad I saw my first R-rated flick a few years later...whatever it was. The more I keep seeing these commercials for warm-weather climates like Jamaica or those all-inclusive resorts Beaches and Sandals from where icicles grow long and mighty makes me want to shoot the standard analog TV I'm watching this on. In short, it pissed me off! 

I am a self-described member of the ever-so unpopular posse known as the Lonely Hearts Club. It doesn't exist, mind you. With Valentine's Day a few weeks off, I'm seeing all the lovey-dovey crap in stores everywhere. I'm feeling like Al Capone now. The J. Geils Band said it best when they sung a song called Love Stinks.  You can also call me an Owner of A Lonely Heart, like that No. 1 tune from Yes in the year, you guessed it, 1984. It has nothing to do with Sgt. Pepper. Just about all of my cousins who are around my age have gotten married. I posted on his facebook page this week that I am just about the only one that is still single. Should I have a party for being available in the dating circuits? Who'd want to be the girl that would want to elope with a schmuck like me? 

Apparently, there was one person that kinda fell for me. Her name was Pattie Sue. (Yes, that's her name...and she's black, just light-skinned.) Had I stayed in Milwaukee, we'd probably still be close today. All the times that we had a moment together, I never told her how much she meant to me. Couldn't even say the words "I love you".  I even got to meet the father of her firstborn, who may have been a chump. What did I know I was fighting for? I didn't even say she was my actual girlfriend. I knew plenty of girl friends, mind you. Just not one that minded being close to me. Didn't stand up for her. I was 'just a friend' to her. I didn't, as one would say, "nut up"; instead I "shut up". Blame my dad for not giving me that birds and bees talk when I was younger. This is where I began discovering the person inside me that would become Kayleah and eventually leave home to northern Illinois. I wonder how she is doing these days. ...