Tell me that the tiny white flaky things wafting down from the sky on my freezing cold ride home were, in actuality, one or more of the following:

• Volcanic ash from an eruption I somehow missed while forearm deep in CRM
• God’s dandruff
• The aftermath of a catastrophic Office Depot explosion in which no people were hurt but thousands of innocent loose-leaf pages perished in the resulting inferno (then kicked up by a sudden windstorm and spread throughout the night sky)
• Cigarette ash from the butts of every person in every car in front of me (which actually happened yesterday; I was never so happy to have your disgusting, repulsive ash in my face)
• This guy, sloppily doing blow:

.. tell me ANYTHING. Just .. not that. Please, not that.

I think I may have just ridden my last pantless* ride of the year.

(*while I technically rode pantless due to the dress I wore today, I am far more protected than if I were wearing actual pants thanks to knee-high boots with thick soles and the sexy shin guard/knee pad combo I wear over them)