I've always like knocking icicles off of things. I don't know why. When I was younger, my brothers and I would have sword fights with the biggest icicles we could find (no one ever lost an eye, thankfully). They've always been amusing to be. For some reason, my neighbors house always had bigger icicles, and I got jealous. When I was at home over the holidays, my mom tasked my younger brother and I with raking snow off the roof and clearing the icicles from the gutters. Yes, please. We had a hard time getting to the icicles on the second story, so we decided to open the windows, hang halfway out of them, and swing at the icicles with a yard stick. It worked fantastically.
|My brother trying not to get electrocuted|
Flash forward to this morning, when I woke up to frigid temperatures in my house. I go to check the thermostat and it reads 48 FREAKING DEGREES! I go downstairs, and can't figure anything out, so before I start calling people to come help me, I decide to go Macgyver around outside, and sure enough, the furnace exhaust had frozen over into a giant ice cube. I whip out a trusty Phillips head screwdriver and start hacking away at it, eventually freeing the pipe of as much ice as possible. My neighbor looked very puzzled as she drove by slowly, staring at this man repeatedly stabbing a PVC pipe at 7:30 in the morning. But hey, the heat kicked in and started to warm up my place immediately. I'm glad I didn't die of CO2 poisoning overnight.
So there's my loosely connected story. Icicles are cool, but they also kinda suck. The end.