Long Hot Summer
It’s hard to come up with a good topic while you are puttering around your apartment, on drugs, eating mashed potatoes and watching TV. So let’s rewind, shall we? Before I paid $1000 to be tortured, before people wished I were remains under their bed, back when I was still chewing solid foods, in the golden days when you could still carry your iPod on a British Airways flight. What was before all that? Oh yes, oppressive, horrific heat. I know the question that’s in your mind. Exactly how hot was it?
Yes, that’s pretty hot, isn’t it? Soxy sent me that one from when she was visiting. But let’s get to the important question. How hot was it in my apartment?
About 3 seconds after this photo was taken, I used the pictured remote to turn on the AC pretty much as high as it would go. Sure, I know we were supposed to conserve electricity. But instead, I followed the example of my office building where the lights were all dimmed and the temperature was left at about 50, thus making me huddle in a sweater straining to see anything.
Being that this is another filler post, allow me to share some blognews with you. It’s Sunday so there’s a new iPod song of the week (upper right box, I know you see it). And in Napster links news, Napster is clearly losing money and has therefore restricted you to listening to their links three times (it was previously five). You can still listen to my on-page player as often as you like, although I remove them once the post moves onto page two. Which at the rate I’m writing lately ought to give you plenty of time
Also, in further efforts to convince you that this blog is all about you, there’s a new box in the right sidebar (thanks, Ghyslain!) to inform you what all the recent comments are. Remember, comment and you can get into my box. Wait, that didn’t come out right. Well, you get me. So to speak.
1. I love the Recent Comments box. Thanks, Ghyslain!
2. “Hey, you need to sweep more under here” was pretty funny. Obviously, I could never put your “remain” under my bed, ’cause you’d frighten the chihuahua.
Ooh, I get to be first. I think this is my first time as first.
I don’t have much to say. My baby shower was today and my brain is numb from cute baby stuff overload.
Hope the teefs (or lack thereof) are feeling better, though. Bloody Gums Jewball is just a gross name.
Shitballs, I was beaten!
Alex, not as much as the chihuahua would frighten me.
Jan, thanks, thay are. And it was all worth it to see you exclaim something like “shitballs.” Hope you didn’t have to say that about any of the gifts.
Sorry, Jan. Next time I’ll wait for you.
Your innovative swearing makes me thing two things:
1. You have a pet rabbit, maybe?
2. In light of the baby shower, I predict that some time in the next two years you will have to give up saying things like “shitballs” unless you want to hear them repeated several dozen times, and at inopportune moments such as Thanksgiving dinner or visits to elderly shut-ins.
A remote for your AC?
Actually, I believe that’s going to be the baby’s name. What, was I not supposed to tell?
RN, are you saying that AC’s in Oklahoma don’t have remotes? With thermometers on them? Yikes, I’ll pray for you.
1. I am so obsessed with last weeks iPod song that I could only listen to a few bars of this week’s song. It’s cool, but it’s no Blue.
2. That dude who has your remains under his bed? Harsh.
3. Thanks G for helping me get into Becca’s box. Prior to this I had only touched her ass a few times on the streets of NYC. I feel so much closer to her now.
KP, was that you? I just thought there was a strong breeze that day.
And yes, yes, different songs will please different people. Others will just want to kill me.
RN, my building dates from 1899. They weren’t thinking central air then. Unfortunately.
Well sort’a remote, we call it a thermostat in these here parts. They’re mounted on the wall you pick the temp you want. Set it and forget it.
All I need in life is another remote to lose.
Alex, my sister and husband are both after me already to clean up my act. I keep telling them the fetus doesn’t understand things like “shitballs,” esp. when typed rather than vocalized, but evidently they’re worried my “negative energy” will rub off on him.
Negative energy? What the fuck is that all about? Hosers.
😛
Don’t worry Jan. It builds characture.
My children are full of it and I said shitballs daily when they were fetuses. I still do.
Oh please Jan. They really said that to you? You are just fine. While i am all about the positive/negative energy vibe, there would be a whole lot more negative energy in my house if i couldn’t let out a “fuck” every now and then. In fact, my children never swear…never have, even as toddlers. They are fully aware of what it is and why they shouldn’t. It isn’t a novelty around here so it doesn’t get the impact some kids like for it to get. Your fetus is one of the luckiest fetuses in the world. You both will be fine.
My goal for today is to use the word “shitballs” as much as possible.
“Your fetus is one of the luckiest fetuses in the world.”
OK, think the pregnancy hormones are roaring this morning? That just made me weepy.
🙂
Jane, goals are important. How nice that you have a puropse-driven life.
Jan, your goal should probably also be to enjoy saying “shitballs” as much as possible now. ‘Cause when I had preschoolers, I found that my vocabulary options just weren’t up to certain challenges (e.g., slamming my pinkie toe against the metal bed frame).
Let me help you, Jane.
Shitballs, you guys, I feel like the luckiest fetus in the world.
Bec, isn’t that quote is from the little known first draft of Lou Gehrig’s speech?
If so, it would have been more like: Shitballs-alls-alls-alls…. I feel like-ike-ike-ike…. the luckiest fetus-eatus-eatus-eatus ….. in the world ….earled-earled-earled.
LOL Alex and Sarpon!!
Shitballs, that made me spray diet dr pepper!
Oh, Lou Gehrig would never say that! Didn’t you see the movie?
Sarp, that made me howl!
Y’all ain’t right.
I’ve ofund a great way to beat the summer heat i nSouth Florida…
Get real wasted, get in your car, and crash it into the nearest immobile object you can find. The Dade County lockup keeps their holding cells at a constant 48 degrees and nothing, and I mean nothing, is more refreshing in August here than a nice trip to the can.
We hung out one week in August with a friend in Dade County. Everytime we put the A/C on she bitched about being cold. She wouldn’t even put in on in her car because she liked the “fresh” air with the windows down. That was our first and last visit there. I will say the Jackson’s chocolate chip ice cream made the whole trip worthwhile though. Chips as big as candy bars I tell ya. What were we talking about again?
I used to think that when I lived in Baltimore and had no AC. Every time I’d see some perp on TV, I’d think, “Yeah, I bet he’s more comfortable than I am, lousy bastard.” Of course, here in NY you don’t have to crash your car, you just have to ride your bike in the wrong place.
I dunno, KP. I think it was sundaes as big as my head.
1899?
Heck Oklahoma wasn’t even a state way back then. No wonder central air is all I know.
Sarp, you really nailed that one.