Village Voices - We don't write papers, we build scrapbooks

There is a time each year when the weather goes from magical to miserable … they call it January.

It’s so damn cold outside, I just farted snowflakes.

If complaining about the cold weather was an Olympic Sport, my wife would be the gold medalist.

Well, … on the bright side … there are no mosquitoes.

I know I’m snowed in, but it’s nothing a little salt can’t handle … especially around the rim of my margarita glass.

OK Winter, you made your point … I’m a wussy.

They’re forecasting a wintry mix for our area of the Midwest. My idea of a wintry mix is two ounces of bo...