I have this uncontrollable, absolutely intense desire right now to reserve the lonely Zipcar that's parked in the even lonelier empty parking lot across the street from my apartment (one hour, only $7) so that I can very carefully, very respectfully celebrate the first snow of the year with some doughnuts. Some "shitty-whips".

I know, I know—people are crashing all over the roads (tap those brakes, Seattle, tap-tap-tap)—but when you make the black ice your bitch, with purpose, it's the best ride in the world. I know I shouldn't do this. But I might. Or least I really want to.