It's definitely over...

You know, you write a little break-up letter and the recipient goes batshit.

Winter decided to flex its proverbial icy muscles today but dumping a crapload of snow on our fair polluted city.

However, the joke is on winter, because everyone thought, "Screw this. I'm staying home today." Digging the car out from under the snow is never particularly amusing -- but was greatly entertained by some just-pubescent lads whipping snowballs at the house across the street.

"Huh," I thought to myself. "The folks who live there must've done something dumb."

As the little buggers hauled ass before crouching behind a car, the owner stepped out. "Did you see who that was?"

"Yup," I said cheerfully, "there they go!"

And sure enough, those gawky boys were scrambling down the street.

"I caught them playing on my front lawn, and told them it was private property [note: the front lawns in our neighbourhood aren't more than a couple of metres across]. If they come back, tell them I've called the cops," snapped the resident (who, incidentally, looks to be around my age).

"Fat chance, you uptight prick," I thought.

An hour later, Chris and I watched from our windows as the little buggers armed themselves for a second pass.

We cheered them on.