"baby it's cold outside"

former coworker: 'you're out of your fucking mind.'
'clearly. you say it like it's an epiphany.'
'with whom are you going?'
'no one. i don't think i could talk anyone into this if i tried, and i didn't want to try. i'd probably wind up someplace watered down like london or something.'
'it's all in the name. ICEland.'
'it's just as warm there as it is here. and exbfdcba said there are little monkeys who hang out in the spas there. me and the spa monkeys chilling.'
'that's tourism bullshit propaganda. and it's not warm here.'
'well, i'm only going there because south africa, well, iberia caught THAT glitch. bastards. it's totally untouchable this time of year unless i want to pay. so, backpacking across iceland in the dead of winter it is. and think of the christmas card i'll be able to send this year. me with spa monkeys or penguins or santa claus incarnate on the coast. can you only imagine?'
'so for that you go to the fucking north pole. to SEE santa claus and sit in a jacuzzi with rabid animals. you're disturbed.'
'yeah. kind of cool, huh.'
'when do you leave?'
'not quite three weeks.'
'where are you staying?'
'eh, i'll work that out eventually.'

i'm pretty sure i'll bring george my laptop, so perhaps a realtime picture or two and an online account of my travels... more about this as it unfolds...