Rain to snow, snow to ice. Blinded by damp hair and sleet. Running down a steep ***** with tonights beer in one hand and in the other half assed tax forms that will most likely be audited by a depressed overweight bureaucrat who gets nothing better out of life than crushing lives of young suckers who didn't pay attention or toss the wrong receipt. He doesn't want your explanations, your excuses, he wants your soul. He wants your soul to fill the void. That gaping hole that was enlarged after his wife divorced him and won sole custody of his three little children. Nothing else left but to pass on his own misery and depression