I can’t stop drinking hot tea, mug after mug. It’s too delicious. The problem is that it’s raising my internal body temperature by at least 12 degrees, and it’s already 100 degrees in my environment. I’m going to die.
This heat is doing bad things for my being. Allow me to put them in list-format for easy reading.
1) I am developing an undesirable tan line from my work attire coupled with the many hours I spend in the sun all day on rooftops. My outfit every day is a v-neck polo and shorts, and it shows. I have a shorts tan (bad), and a nice tan V formation on my chest. And don’t forget the sleeves. The upper half of my biceps look like the inside of a Double Stuf Oreo. Not attractive.
2) My face instantaneously becomes greasier than a burger patty from Five Guys when I step into the smothering heat, and melts my makeup off my face within hours. I look like a prostitute that slept outside by high noon.
3) My tennis shoes smell like toxic waste. I’m not kidding. My Nike Shox needed to be disinfected in a bathtub of iodine. Or vinegar. Or baking soda. Or bleach. Maybe a concoction of all of the above. I threw them in the washing machine with a quart of Tide yesterday, and was surprised to see them emerge whiter than Jennifer Love Hewitt in I Know What You Did Last Summer. I truly was amazed. They went from looking like they spent the last month in a pig feeding trough to sparkling like a fresh blanket of snow. Tide. Gotta love it.
Trent and I were making fun of Booty Pop Panties sizing chart, which is “Sweet, Sweeter, & Sweetest,” earlier today, when I recalled a store back in Omaha called “Bee Yourself.” In this store, there were no actual sizes tagged on clothing items like small, medium, or large. They did not want to make customers “feel bad” for whatever size they wore, they stated. Instead, clothing items were labeled by colors instead of size. So instead of 2, 4, 6, 8, 12, there was yellow, green, blue, purple, red, etc.
I think this is dumb.
“Oh my god, have you seen Karen since high school? She’s at LEAST a purple. It’s all that beer she’s been drinking. She really let herself go.”
“Gasp—I’m already a blue. I told myself I’d never allow myself to get to that side of the color wheel. I need to go on a diet and get back down to a green before school starts. I can’t go back looking like the other side of the rainbow.”
Big, Bigger, Biggest.
“A second grader just threw a football at my balls. Pissed and in agony, I asked why he did that. His response was, ‘Sorry—I was aiming for your abs.’ He’s forgiven.”