The second sound you heard the other evening was the sound of me weakly stabbing myself in the head with an ice pick. The first sound was my neighbor saying "it's supposed to get down to 104 degrees tomorrow."
In other news:
It is not possible to lay your wrist veins open with an oscillating fan. The blades just quit.
The cord from the ceiling fan is not strong enough to hang yourself from.
Spoiled fruit will not kill you outright.
If you put your head down and charge straight into the pointy corners of the refrigerator, it feels pretty good until you come to again.
Thighs can be removed from a plastic lawn chair by gently inserting an ice pick under the edges and prying up. To remove skin from a metal lawn chair, allow to bake until crisp (fifteen minutes), scrape up with a spatula, add barbecue sauce and serve.
All the doorknobs are hot. Just open it and go in.
Just because the toilet seat is unusually warm, it doesn't mean it's turning Japanese. You can wait all day, and it's not about to squirt water at you or dry you off. You're still on your own.
Your local newspaper is offering helpful tips to cope with the heat, right on the front page. "Wear Sun Hat" is one, accompanied by a helpful drawing of a Sun Hat. "Seek Shade" is another. There is a helpful drawing of a generic tree in profile with a dark spot next to it, an arrow pointing at the dark spot. You are one of the last fifteen people who still subscribe to your local newspaper, and your local newspaper suspects you are a moron.
Black fur absorbs heat. Fur can be removed from the thighs with a damp sponge. Cats can travel about fifteen feet in the air before returning to earth. The Band-aids are in the pantry.
There is a temperature above which your computer tower will actually begin to pant. Windows Vista, however, still freezes.
About ten degrees before the point at which life ceases to exist, humor dies. I am not funny. You are definitely not funny.
Why, yes, it IS hot enough for me, thank you! Ha ha! Have you met Mr. Ice Pick?
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You know the perfect cure for that is to hike 12 miles and 4,000 vertical feet straight up the side of a mountain.....
ReplyDeleteIt turns out that--this just in!--that is also the cure for Occasional Irregularity.
ReplyDeleteOr, travel to our end of the country, and bring your woolies and an umbrella!
ReplyDeleteAs it happens, I'm about to travel to your end of the country, and I hope to shiver. I've already donated my woolies to the Global Warming Denial Society, and I hope they're right comfortable.
ReplyDeleteyeah, well you didn't even offer your poor mailman (who was walking horizontally 12 miles) an ice cold beer! DAMN!
ReplyDeleteIt is a known fact that humor dissapates above 104 F and yet the garden looks excellent. May I suggest sitting in a cool kayak in the cool punchbowl as a cure???
ReplyDeleteWhy, that would be lovely. And John: standing invitation for a nice IPA.
ReplyDeleteaaaah! i bow and bring many checks to the beautiful garden goddess. alas, i have sad news to bear. due to the postal changes, 29th st. is being taken away from me (24th +25th, are being added) my ability to gawk will be sadly diminished!
ReplyDeleteNow I know my reply to friends who say they 'love' the heat... w/my ice pick in hand!
ReplyDeleteAs it happens, I'm about to travel to your end of the country, and I hope to shiver. I've already donated my woolies to the Global Warming Denial Society, and I hope they're right comfortable.
ReplyDeleteYou know the perfect cure for that is to hike 12 miles and 4,000 vertical feet straight up the side of a mountain.....
ReplyDelete