Bad Hair Day
Oh, the long-suffering snowperson. Not only do they have to stand out in public, with perfect posture and naked as it were, they have to bear the anguish of a reed canary grass mohawk and having a bunch of chokecherries hanging out of their nostril. Oh, the lack of humanity. Gone are the days of a stovepipe hat and a smile made of coal. At least they gave it a front row for creek hockey.
Striated by snowflurries
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