Usually when I pant, it has nothing to do with heat. Watching Gretchen Moll in the movie “Bettie Page” or scanning through the pages of Sports Illustrated’s swimsuit issue maybe, but not heat. Um….except for, the “heat of the moment.” Which has remotely nothing at “this moment” to do with sex.
Or….as my other half and a gazillion other women would say, “SEX! What are you nucking futs….it’s too freakin hot you numbskull!!!!”
Like the rest of you across the U.S., I’m beginning to get a feel of what it will be like to live in Hell when my time comes. Thank Gawd it’s ok to run around naked in Hell.
Sooooo…..how hot is it? I thought you’d never ask.
It’s sooooo hot I saw a squirrel out in the backyard this morning fanning his nuts.
It’s soooo hot the National Weather Service issued a fat guy in a tank top warning.
It’s soooooo hot I just saw a dog chasing a cat and they were both walking.
It’s sooooo hot today Dick Cheney was water boarding himself.
So until this heat wave is over I suggest we all just “cool it” by staying out of the sun. Avoid any strenuous work….like mowing the lawn, weeding, going out into a hot car to do some useless grocery shopping, or even a simple task like taking the trash out.
All those tasks could be extremely hazardous to men…um….I meant people.
Please do not hesitate to point that fact out to your spouse. Heat can be a killer. Point out to her that you are more than willing to help out with any household chore, but given the fact that it’s too damn hot to even exist, she’d be better off waiting until December.
If she buys that line, you’re safe and outta the woods.
If she doesn’t, better hope you die from heat stroke……..
On second thought…….if you use that heat excuse, and she doesn’t buy it, dying from heat stroke might be the lesser of two evils.
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