First of all, thanks for not killing me with your plow. I'm sure that if Stephen King hasn't written a story yet where one of you or kills hapless motorists (your plows comes to life), he will. (I'm not a motorist, but in a horror movie, the academic type nice guy dies last usually, after the African American guy, the jerk white guy, the Asian girl, the promiscuous and mostly naked girl, and the non-African American comic relief.)
I don't mean to sound ungrateful about your plowing or anything, but why do you continue to plow the exact same lane over and over again while leaving tons of extra space in the middle of the street unplowed? I went out to shovel snow had to do 36 cubic feet of your work. I don't ask you do to 36 cubic feet of my work, and I don't even get a huge truck with a plow to run people over if they make me angry or if I want to inspire a Stephen King novel.
Also, what socks are the best for shoveling snow? I have been wearing black tube socks, but unless you are a member of the 1992 Chicago Bulls or a candidate for junior high class president, I would guess maybe they aren't the right choice.
Happy Valentine's Day,
The Chronic Nice Guy
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