dooodeedooo

Today, I'm not thinking about THE RECORD. I am consciously making an effort to pretend I don't live in a city that amounts to an effing OVEN, even if that oven has good live music. I will talk to my mom in Little Rock and complain about it and she will say, "Oh, I know, it was 113 here last week." And I'm like, No, YOU DON'T KNOW. You guys have experienced super hot over 100 temps for all of about five minutes. We've had them FOR SEVENTY @*#ING DAYS. That is all of June, all of July, the ENTIRE SUMMER LOOKING MORE LIKE IT'S GOING TO LAST THE REST OF THE OBAMA ADMINISTRATION UNTIL G**DAMN INFINITY. Oh and rain, yeah, YOU'VE HAD IT. WE HAVE NOT. There is NOTHING in this godforsaken heat sink that isn't crispy, brown and dead. Unless you're the lawn belonging to my Jackass Neighbor Who Waters Illegally.

This heat saps my will to enjoy anything. You could set me up a picnic with the finest table of the most delicious fried chicken and gouda cheese, served to me on solid gold plates by Clive Owen with Tom Hardy as his backwaiter set in front of a stage playing live music featuring Mumford and Sons, ABBA and John Denver (what? yes, I KNOW: he's dead, shut up) and handshaken Mexican Martini's and I would STILL look askance at you and say, "Is there AIR CONDITIONING?? Because if not, I'm outta here." GAH. I am so, SO over it.

So yeah. I'm not thinking about it today..

*crickets*

NO LOOK SEGWAY:

SO, this song? they play it A LOT here. I am normally irked by songs that they play every 37 minutes but this one I actually kind of like, I think because it reminds me of my sisters. I am hard-pressed to tell you why. I just think they would enjoy it. And be able to sing it after a few jugs of wine. In fact, I'm pretty sure they already have, only they thought it was an Eagles song.


Think about this instead of the weather, whydontcha.