We are officially out of the cone. For now.  Fuck that, we are out of the cone till next year, so sez me, and that's final.

Until then, I'll have my rain plain, thank you, with a side of light breeze, hold the pickles and the crazy-ass winds, and keep my surge on the side in a little paper cup.

I know the cone is imaginary, but I'm still damn glad ( Read more... )