It's pretty cold and brisk. You might say there was a nip in the air.
The reminds of my own dear father, who on days like this would gather all of the children together in front of a roaring fire, point out the windows to the snow covered landscape and with a twinkle in his eye, say: "Do you think you're better than me, you little pieces of shit? I know one of your took my cigarettes, when I find out which one, I'm going to burn all of you little fuckers with them"
I jest, he's lovely. .
Edited, Dec 8th 2014 10:28am by Smasharoo
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