Spray Snow
I hate spray snow. If parents hate their children, they put spray snow on the windows. Then the kids might wake up and look outside and think that it snowed and there's no school and theirs minds fill with all the fun things they can do and all the snowmen and snow angels and snow forts they can make in the 6 hours they would be spending in school. Then they take a closer look and realize that it's not snow, it's spray snow. Motherfucking spray snow. I hate it so much. My housemate, Glenn, has yet to wipe the spray snow off my windows. When I say wipe, that only applies to steel wool. Well, maybe Krod's hair, but that pretty much had the texture of steel wool anyway. With any other substance (natural or synthetic), you must spend about a hour of cleaning per can of spray snow needing removal. I don't even know why Glenn put it on the windows in the first place. Aren't windows made to look out of rather than cover 80% with white crap? It's not even like snow. Snow is cold and powdery. This spray snow looks like powdered milk was mixed into the fake milk that it becomes, then allowed to evaporate on our windows for a month, then began molding. On the most looked at window in our kitchen, I wrote "Wash me, Glenn" with my finger much like a clever person would do to another's filthy vehicle. The window remained in said state for about two weeks before it got splashed with water until the text was no longer readable. It is my belief that our spray snow has aged so long that removal will no longer require steel wool, water, and a vacuum cleaner, but also dust masks and paramedics armed with those huge-ass injections of adrenaline/steroids that Nicholas Cage had to impale himself with in "The Rock" after contacting the green instant-death potion. Once I track down the inventor of spray snow, I might not be able to update my journal for the next 7-10 years. Sorry if that inconveniences you.