Yes, so 99.1 is back, sort of.

In fact, the way of their return is why 98-Rock’s new bumper is, “98-Rock now airing on … 98-Rock.”

See, HFS returned to 105.7, the station that once billed itself as Baltimore’s only FM all talk station. Don’t see how they’re going to do that anymore - the weekends are now being given to former HFS personalities to play music and BS and do all the stuff that didn’t get them ratings and got them kicked off the air. They’ve also apparently booted Ron & Fez from the 7-11pm slot for HFS lite.

I spend much of the day in my car. Music CDs are fine and all, but talk radio can be really great. For the lunch shifts, I’d listen to Out to Lunch, then Don & Mike at three, and then Ron & Fez most evenings. Oh yeah - and now Beer Radio isn’t on over the weekends! Double-You-Tee-Eff?!

And to top things off, apparently Miles and Thrill got a job offer in Seattle, so they’re gone too. SON OF A FUCKING BITCH. Why does everything happen at once?

Kahn informs Kirk that he’s going to destroy the Enterprise, leaving the Admiral and his landing party stranded in the center of a hollow moon. Kirk’s face contorts in anger and he screams “KAAAAAAAAHN!”

And then he reveals his masterful backup plan, gets back to his ship, and kicks Kahn’s genetically engineered ass.

But I ramble too much: the Kahn scream is currently on top of the best cinematic one-liners.

Some days I tell myself, “Jeff, you shouldn’t work today - bad things will happen.” Usually I ignore myself, and usually, bad things happen.

Like today. I wanted to call out. Steve pressured me to work - “You’re the closing driver. Do you know what a difficult shift that is to work? Plus, you worked inside Wednesday. You don’t want everyone to think you’re a pussy, do you?”

Personally, I have no problem with people thinking I’m a pussy. If there’s a Golden Rule in the Pizza Delivery business, it’s this: tips are nice n’ all, but not dying is better. Actually, I take that last back: most drivers have the mentality: Delivering + Snow = Big Money. My mentality: Delivering + Lack of Ability to Drive in Snow = Pain, Suffering & Death. So really, it’s my Golden Rule, at least until I become more suicidal than I already am.

Bob told me, “Oh, the roads are all plowed, everything is fine!” when I called in.

Liar.

But because of guilt over not driving Wednesday, I said “fuck it”, stuck a folding metal chair in my spot, and went to work.

I took four deliveries. And that’s when I got my car stuck at the bottom of the hill.

This road is off of Phoenix. If you know the area, you know this road - it’s only got one way in, and the same way out. First you’ve gotta drive up a really steep hill. Then you’ve gotta drive down the equally steep opposite side of the hill. That part I had no problem with. It was trying to get back up the hill that my poor car simply could not do.

See, when the County folks plowed this street, they didn’t do such a great job getting up all the snow and such, particularly at the top of the hill. And all the traffic today and yesterday compacted it. So I got about three quarters of the way up the hill and then my car decided to slide back down.

I made three attempts. And as I kept getting no where (fast), I decided “fuck this”, called Steve, and he sent Ross in his 4×4 to get me. I called Gary, and he’s picking me up bright and early tomorrow morning to take me to my beloved car, stranded in a strange and hostile neighborhood. I should note that the “strange and hostile neighborhood” is filled with upper middle class white yahoos, so when I go back tomorrow the “blue collar watch” will probably alert the police. “There’s a guy in our neighborbood who makes less than half a million a year! Help! Help!”

I did leave a note on the dash - “Got stranded. Can someone competent plow the road this time?”*

I already called out from work tomorrow night. I don’t care what Steve or Greg say - the roads are still shit, and dammit, I’m not going to put myself in a position to pay my insurance deductible unless I absolutely, positively, have to!

*It didn’t actually say that.

Today it might be more appropriate to say, “There Goes Johnnnnny!”

Rest in peace, funny man.

The trick to digging out your car from Mother Nature’s snow is to force Mother Nature to help you.

I parked on the far side of the parking lot, facing the building. During the day, the apartment building shades those cars that park on the close side of the lot - but - you guessed it - shines directly on vehicles on the far side.

At about 11, I dug my car out. I didn’t do a great job clearing the snow from the car - I mean, I knocked as much of it off as I could, but there was still a sheet of snow covering it. The sun has done the detail work - my car is almost entirely clear of snow.

Hurah!