Return of the Son of Winterloathe

Met a friend at the grocery store today and he called the massive snowfall in progress "pretty." Hmm. I have other adjectives for it. Here's a test: you're a true Canadian if you look out upon that mess and declare it pretty, beautiful, gorgeous, etc.

Clearly, I fail. Call in the Mounties! Snatch my passport, eh?

("And you don't like hockey. Mortal sin," Sgt. Slapshot muttered as he threw me in the slammer.)