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I’m supposed to be writing about how I gave up TV. It’s just too fucking hot. I’d rather talk with the cute red haired girl from high school about the old english word for sin which is according to the OED is Gylt but somehow that is “inadmissible phonologically” which I find hilariously funny because my brains melted out of my ears sometime around three o’clock. My friend Paddy already lost it cooking Irish spaghetti with a towel wrapped around his head like a Sheik of Araby. Of course it takes a lunatic Irishman to cook spaghetti in the middle of a heat wave since all the actual Italians are sitting back with antipasto because it’s too dam hot to cook. It’s even too dam hot for dog cookies and it’s never been that hot before. She’s gone and dug a hole under the porch to sit in and I’m informed she’ll be back out to eat after dark. Back before the huge ice flows took away the steps I’d go down and intentionally get hypothermia, if you stay in the water till you start hallucinating about pushing Kate Winslet off the raft you’ll have super cooled blood for the next two hours even in hundred degree weather. I have to do it soon, I’m off to the garage sale, the sign said 7Am till 100 degrees and I think she’s about to call it a day
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Gylt-y as charged. At least I wasn’t boiling potatoes and cabbage.. now that would be insane.. and a good enough reason to drink more ale.
I set my AC to 73 and life is fiiiine.
I have a woodstove. It’s cold here not hot. There is no AC!
sorry, can’t help it………
It was hot as hell here the other day. I was miserable and grouchy all damn day.
And it’s 52 today and I just put on a heavier shirt.