Snorklehead Craze, Explained

        I was a teenage snorklehead. My good friend and druggie partner Pete found a snorklehead coat at a Army Navy store in Boston and wore it home. We all laughed at it, "what a lame-o, you look like a goose,your brother will kick your ass," we told him fondly.
       That night he got utterly wasted, like every other night we ever knew each other, and he passed out in the snow. When the rest of us ran out of dope and wine, we tried to wake him up and we couldn't. We drug him to my car and piled him into the trunk, we didn't close it, and I drove him home. He was pissed about being in the trunk when we got there but he was up, so I told him to get the fuck out and to say hello to his mother when he fell through the door.
         He didn't make it in. He went back to sleep in the chair on the porch. It got down to maybe 9 degrees that night and he slept right through it, like a wasted baby. When he woke up the next day and wasn't dead from being frozen, he called me to come get his ass so we could get started again.
         He told me his snorklehead coat had kept him toasty and maybe saved him from the frozen death he deserved. I had been a p-coat guy. No more after that recommendation. Since I'd been blessed with a never ending supply of highly addictive barbituates connection, I was always falling down and sleeping in different places, passing out in cars too, it was a common problem among my "friends." I got me a snorklehead coat too and on that very day, which may be a reason why I'm still alive and have both of my ears. Pete and I were the ones that started the snorklehead coat craze. Maybe we are, anyway. Someone is, why not us?
   You know what made me think of that? It's cold here now, I read about Newfoundland this morning, my snorklehead coat came from there, and that's it.