I like snow because when you're shoveling for two hours and you pass out from exhaustion you always have a soft place to land. Other than that I hate snow.

It looks nice. You'll look out the window and see the giant flakes falling in the moonlight, covering everything in a smooth white blanket. It's so magical, so peaceful. So deceptive.

Then, the next morning, you try to wipe the foot of snow off your car and shovel it out of a five foot snow drift so you can try to move it into the street which is covered in packed snow left behind by the snow plow that left a four foot snow mound at the end of your driveway blocking you from getting out anyway.

Snow can just blow me.