Dear snow plow driver,

Hi there. It’s me, Rod. The first snowfall of the year is upon us and I just wanted to drop you a line or two in order to clear the air about how we ended things last year in hopes that we can move on from those unfortunate events.  I’d like you to know that if there is a way to create some harmony between us, I’ll do it.  I’m all about building bridges.

  1. No matter what I said, I do not think your mother is a godless whore.  I don’t even know where that came from.  Jeez, ya know, I really regret saying that.  I’d had a long day, maybe even a few beers. I’m an idiot and sometimes I say hurtful things I don’t mean.  I’m sure your mother is a God fearing woman whose reputation in the community and the local church is beyond reproach.  Along the same lines, I’m sure your wife is a handsome woman and not the ugly, three- toed, swamp pig I referred to. I have no idea what her ass looks like, but I’m confident it isn’t fat. Can we just chalk that up to a heat of the moment mistake and move on? I’d like that.
  2. You are an excellent driver, skilled in your chosen profession, and I’m sure that it isn’t easy to get a snowplow driving license.  I know it’s impossible to get one of those licenses in a gumball machine, and I’m fully aware that the training to drive a snowplow is not part of a county social services program designed to give slack-jawed retards something to do.
  3. I know that you are on a pre-determined route with the roads you plow and that you are most certainly not ‘lying in wait’ for me to clear the berm at the end of my driveway. That’s just ridiculous, and I’m ashamed for being so paranoid and adolescent in my thinking. I know you weren’t laughing maniacally as you buried me in for the fourth time. I needed the exercise anyway.
  4. That ice chunk I threw was not aimed at your open window. Sometimes the magic of a winter wonderland brings me back to my childhood and I get the itch to toss a snowball or two. That one got away from me. Seriously. I hope you didn’t need stitches.
  5. Don’t worry about that mailbox. It was ugly and needed replacing anyway. 

Wow, talk about coincidences. As I type this I can hear you coming down the street.  I’m gonna go out and wave to you and then later when you read this you’ll smile. It’ll be like a special moment captured in time, fostering our budding friendship. Be right back.

Listen and listen good, you miserable prick! It’s way too early in the season for the type of shit you just pulled.  Are you too fucking blind to see where the road ends and my lawn begins? And the mailbox? Again? Really?  Hey asshole, why don’t you put the beer down for five minutes and join us in the land of the living? Mark my words. I’ll fix your ass, loser. I know where you live.


The guy five minutes and a couple smokes away from a shoveling induced heart attack

  1. nursemyra says:

    What’s “wing night”?

    • Rod says:

      NM, wing night refers to Thursday nights at the town bar when they serve chicken wings. I have no idea why, but for some reason it’s cause for most of the locals to congregate.

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