Obviously there is a conspiracy afoot to ensure that my feet are cold and bordering on frost bitten, this is the only answer that perfectly accomodates all the facts at hand, and I know who is responsible.
You see, the boots are still not here, both pairs. The first pair was despatched on saturday, via a postal network of small woodland creatures and hobos if their website is to be believed. Due to their lack of appearance after a few days I purchased a second pair, this time via that last bastion of assured delivery, Amazon Prime. The cost was negligable and easy to justify to myself, after all I can always use two pairs of boots, however they too are stuck out there somewhere. No doubt laughing at me. Them and the Snow King in his white ivoryesque tower of snow, like some kind of melty Mordor watching over us, surrounded by the stolen boots of people who only want comfortable warm feet.
Yes, The Snow King. He is the head of this cold white hydra of a conspiracy (well, one of the heads, the main one, the one that does the talking for the other heads when they go to a drive through for fast food nommynoms). No doubt in league with the neo-political establishment, the military industrial complex, the royalist vanguard, and last but certainly not least, the International union of voice over artists.
But at the head (the main head, as discussed, not one of the lesser heads), The Snow King. Without whom, they cannot function (clearly they are not the best hydra in the world or else not only would they be able to function upon the loss of a head but would infact double that heads efficiancy in the eating of humans. Alright, look maybe hydra was a bad analogy for their organizational structure but it was all I had going at the time, give a guy a break here, I have cold toes for God's sakes!).
With all the power that I can muster I promise you this you snowy bastard, I shall have the last laugh...
*plugs in hair dryer, advances towards door*
...you've had this coming for some time...
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