Let's Talk About The Snow
You hate it?
No, I just like it less than you do.
But it's snow! How can you not love it? It's so crisp and beautiful and that smell!
Yeah, yeah, snow's great but we get grey slush in New York so I'm not used to this whole picture-book village look you've got going here.
You know…you've always kinda reminded me of slush…
Huh…thanks, I'm sure when I need a character witness, you'll be the first person who springs to mind…"And how would you describe the defendant?"…"Well, he's like slush…"
Well, I'm hoping that you never need a character witness but I didn't mean it like that.
I know. You never do, that's what worries me. So what's with the slush comparison?
Well, snow's great and everything, and, yeah, it's beautiful but slush is beautiful too, only you can't see it. It's covered in the dirt from everyone's boots but it's still crisp and white underneath…
I'm not all squeaky clean underneath the surface, you know…
But that's not your fault, just like it isn't the slush's.
But, hey, we're being metaphorical here, ok?
So I'm only metaphorically like slush?
Sure. If you like.
Well you're metaphorically like snow-perfect. So really I shouldn't be talking to you 'cause I'm unwanted snow…
*I* want you.
Good…So…this snow, huh?