2012 Chevy Volt -- a customer review.

You know that weird looking kid that takes your order at the McDonald's out by WalMart? You know the teenager I am talking about.  He has that semi-Goth too-dark jet black hair cut in some weird comb-it-all-forward haircut with one side shorter than the other?  He is the young man that just stares at you as you walk up to the counter, offering some sort of telepathic "Hi, can I take your order?" that you do not receive. Mostly you do not get the telepathic message because the only telepathic people in the Universe are those awesome butt-head aliens on the two-part Star Trek episode where Captain Kirk and Spock trace the history of the first captain of the Enterprise. Even though you are not a butt-head alien you place your order anyway because you are conditioned from a young child to order when you get up to the counter at the McDonald's out by Walmart.

Anyway, now do you know that kid?

Imagine he sort of shook his hair all over your lawn and the dandruff made a faint white coating, more of a dusting, I should guess. That is how much snow we got last night.

What? Maybe you prefer me to describe the snowfall of last night as similar to the sprinkle of powdered sugar you sift over your French Toast? Is that a better image for your delicate sensibilities?

I don't like French Toast. I never eat it.  Ever. I also do not like sweet potatoes.  Not baked, candied, fried, or raw. I will not eat them in a house, I will not eat them with a mouse, not in the rain, not on a train. Sweet potatoes taste like ass. Or at least like I imagine ass would taste if I ever tasted it. I am not real fond of beans either. Except green beans, I like them. I can choke down liver, if I have to, but I do not like it much. I have eaten blood sausage. It is not as good as you would imagine.

There is a little snow on the grass.  None on the driveway or street.  So far this winter I have used the snow shovel once -- as a big dustpan when I swept out the garage.

I can live with that.

I don't know why, but it occurs to me I might go out to McDonald's for lunch.  Perhaps the one out by WalMart.