Monday, July 25, 2005

Hot times, summer in The City

Well, for all of the complaining I've been doing about the heat in NYC, it looks like our neighbors to the west got hit a little harder than we have thus far in Heat Wave 2005. My dearest friends in Chicago, I would send you some sympathy, but I'm going to assume that you have central air so I'm not cutting you much slack. As an aside, sexin' in the middle of the day during the summer is so much fun. It’s like a slip 'n slide except nakeder.

Speaking of naked girls running rampant around my apartment, we've run into a touch of bad news. Our good friend Andrea will not be joining us on a new Manhattan adventure. It's sad, but by staying in the Forbidden Borough we'll have a lot more money lying around to buy new furniture. The way that came out it sounds like I'm Uncle Scrooge from Ducktales and every afternoon I slip into a smoking jacket and dive into my pile of money and do the backstroke. Because that is exactly what I do.

Aside from complaining about the heat, there isn't really all that much going on around these parts. Yesterday I did laundry and today I'll be purchasing a new stick of deodorant. I get the Old Spice with the click-wheel. I had to use hers this morning so I smell vaguely like baby powder. I'm pretty sure my pan-seared (and butter soaked) shrimp pasta last night gave me a minor heart attack. It kinda hurts right here. Not that a heart attack would surprise me. The other day riding in to work on the subway I went into a cold sweat for a minute and thought I was having a stroke. I don't even know what a stroke is. But I knew that it was the end. No, really. New York rocks during the summer. Just ask Manhattan Transfer. I seriously have to start hanging out with that motherfucker. Because it sounds like he knows how to party.

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