cheshire42

It's summertime. It's hot. Blue skies. Less clothes. Tanlines.

I'm in love with it, Reader. Luv luv luuuuuuuv. I wanna marry summer. We can make cute little sun-babies with names like Ra and Apollo and Sol. We can bitch about her sisters - the hippie with the green fetish, the lethargic underacheiver that kills all the leaves, and especially that frigid bitch that shows up at the end of every year. Oh, sure, she throws good parties, but she's so goddam cold, ya know?

Why the summer love? You'd think 14 years in a city that's known for perpetual rain would make me scared of the "fire-ball-in-sky", but oh no, not me. I grew up in a valley, and every summer God whipped out his magnifying glass and cooked him some ants. Being the clever little hairless apes that we were, we adapted and overcame. Just like Marines. The river that ran through our sun-kissed valley was our salvation, and I fondly remember many a dip in it. Especially the ones involving beer coolers and innertubes.

So, she's here, and I'm Summer's bitch. It's a good thing, especially in Texas.