dear god

i've been away for a while visiting the great mountainless mount pleasant, michigan, losing money to the indian casino, and wandering around central michigan's campus. i am back in blogable dowagiac. and so it begins. though i really should write a blog about how much i enjoyed being able to buy sushi at the college library (i didn't, but liked that i could).

instead i will continue my life's work of giving unsolicited advice. i've sent suggestions to everyone. no one answers. this one's for god.

please re-design humans for life in the cold. too many times in the last week, my extremities have come close to falling off. my fingers, nose, and ears in particular have been icicles hanging from the eaves of my face and hands. the only reason they don't fall off is because man in his limited yet useful wisdom has invented the indoors (something you seem to have forgotten, unless i count caves, which really aren't so nice).

i'm pretty sure that if i found the door to work locked, i wouldn't make it back to the car before i lost at least one ear. one very red ear. why it turns red without any warm blood in it is another mystery, but not one i will bother you with, god. i want you to focus on the big picture.

sure, you say, we lose the limbs first so that all the body's resources can be dedicated to the trunk--holder of the vital organs. i say that's old thinking. my fingers are much more vital to me than my protected appendix. how else could i write you this complaint letter.

sure, you say, buy a hat and gloves. i refuse to make up for your shortcomings. i don't own an umbrella either.

design the next human with a streamlined round head--nothing sticking out. cover it with hair or fat to protect it. give us retractable fingers (and toes, while you're at it), so we can suck them in when we're cold and shoot them out when needed. a cat's penis might be a good model.

respectfully cold,

scott