This can be blamed on exercise

It's bad weather in Chicago. First snow. Then sleet. Then ice. Obviously I had the bright idea of leaving the house and driving to the gym.

It took me 25 minutes to get the one-quarter inch ice blanket off of my car. This trip for exercise is already shaping up to be pheeee-nominal. I got to the gym and passed up on some easy parking spots and jammed my car into a small spot using my bumpers as my guide. [The BMW and Audi I wedged between obviously love me] The actual time I spent working out was great. Then I left to come home. I'm about a mile from my place when all of a sudden 'BAM!' I didn't get hit nor was Emeril Lagasse in my car, but my front right tire was no longer doing it's job. A damn blow out.

I drive the rest of the way home on my rim (incidentally, metal on concrete is not a great sound). The only upside to this whole situation is that I live across the street from a tire repair shop.

I've ordered sushi [let someone else drive in this slop] and I will be drinking wine for the rest of the night. You are more than welcome to come join me, but drive at your own risk.