coleslaw, when done properly

i was reading SLOG at the library, viewing a series of tit-baring pornstar photographs, when i noticed a slightly younger, earnestly adorable boy standing behind me. i smiled without thinking about it. he did not smile back. he looked more startled than anything.
it snowed last night and it still sticks. this morning: i am parked on a 40 degree incline in the drive in front of my building. my car is encapsulated in a sheet of ice. all of the locks are frozen. i am hanging onto the icy car to avoid falling on my ass, sliding from one side of the vehicle to the other, trying to gain entry. a woman is starting her car about twenty feet away. "do you have an ice scraper?" she asks. "no, i'm in the same boat as you" i say (and i actually do use that folksy term, to my consternation). "a credit card works well." i used my key-card from tacoma ER. the hill is a fucking skating rink. i feel like a pansy, my lifetime in alaska officially negated.
it is the end of my workweek. by this, the fourth day, i am fucking exhausted and only want to sleep. but i feel obligated to shake my tail feathers instead, because i can. perhaps i will do a crossword puzzle and have a drink. this unfortunately constitutes tail-feather-shakery.