With careful consideration and much delight, I have been to the grocery store twice today and am prepared for the 5-8 inches of snow that winter storm Helena is prepared to drop on the city that I live. Like a reconnaissance, I have returned to the homestead with all of the essentials.

I left home this morning at 8am, venturing to Publix, not unlike the wayward folks wandering along the Oregon Trail fighting dysentery and typhoid fever, in search of the food that my family needed. A nomad hunter and fighter in my Volkswagen Jetta, my modern day oxen, I took to the trail they call Route 521 in search of meat, water, the fat of the land. As I hopped into my leather seats from the skinned, fattened, heavily processed calf we feasted on last week at McDonald’s, in search of my next meal, not knowing if I’d see another day, I noticed a pain in my trick knee, telling me that a storm was a brewin’. I drove the machine as fast as I could until I saw the neon green sign that signaled I was safe with chuck and milk in sight.

Skipping past the full sized shopping carts, I grabbed a mini-buggy to stay agile in the aisles. Before I hit the cereal section, I asked customer service if 8am was too early to buy booze. She said I was all set to get a hold of the beer and wine, all I wanted as a matter of fact, as there was no statute preventing me from the stouts and lagers in the cooler. The only thing in the way of one’s acquisition of the morning drink is one’s morals. I am not rigged with those things. I run my own race – with a slight stumble at the end.

You see, I’ve got a few blow up pool rafts that I’m gonna cruise down the hill behind my house on, after it snows, and I only have a 40 ounce of Miller High Life in the fridge; I want to get hammered before I launch myself into the woods on the inflatable lounger. I have a heating pad and a set of crutches I copped from a yard sale last summer (so I could go to the movie theater and sit in those comfortable seats that are for handicapped people – you know, the seats that let you to put your feet up on that rail) that should come in handy after I Sonny Bono a tree.

After I refilled my High Life with a case of 24 and bought some Tums to aid in my snow-day inebriation (slight alcoholism always keeps me up at night), I bought all the goods for tacos and chili, and I bought some pecan swirls, cinnamon buns, biscuits, Oreos, milk (whole milk – cause I’m American), Toll House cookies, powdered donuts, and other bits of sugar confectionary that are sure to bring on type 2 diabetes. Lucky I know a guy who can get me diabeetus testin’ supplies delivered monthly!

I left Publix at 9am, and now Stateline Elite was open. A huge liquor shop that had the ethanol I needed to stay warm. I needed an elixir that would invigorate and enliven my family during the snow storm – lubrication to strengthen the weak and cure the sick. The place was alive and well at 9am; these merchants of well-being were distributing their panacea to the masses. I bought Maker’s Mark, the big one, not the small one, and went on my way back to the farm.

That’s all I have to say. You’ll see here the things that are important during a snow storm. As a quick refresher, I have swimming pool rafts to sled down the hill on, a case of Miller High Life, a 40 OZ of Miller High Life, a large vessel of whisky, and foods that are, as a percentage, mostly sugar. That’s all you need in times of winter hardship. I have my family’s well being in mind and I hope you’ll use this as a tool to provide for you and your family.

Keep your trailer warm and your trash white, you may be eligible for disability after this. I’m gonna swing by my neighbor’s and get a tank of nitrous. Maybe after, we’ll end up back at my place; or maybe we’ll end up at the ER.