Let's talk some heat.
Let's talk about the difference
between my heat and the heat you mopes who live with lizards and cactuses think is
hot. The kind I'm sick and tired of hearing you brag about in Arizona,
Nevada, Utah, and New Mexico. THE DRY HEAT.
* YAWN *
You want heat? I'll give you heat.
Come to the midwest. Spread your sandy nostrils and slam down a suck of
REAL heat. The kind those of us who live with slimy pond slugs from Mississippi to Minnesota call HOT.
Next to ours your heat is like a walk in the springtime. Yeah. That's right. Springtime.
Our heat is way WORSE than YOUR HEAT. Because, unlike you people,
who whine about frying your fingers on the steering wheels of your
cars when it gets a little hot outside, our heat will boil your lungs from
We don't just have high heat. We
have HIGH HUMIDITY. An alien life form to people who have to catch their
water from the sweat glands of bats in a mine shaft.
Sure, your air can toast sandwiches. *HO HUM.* Our air can
defrost and boil a pig faster than you can put that cardboard
windshield thing on your dashboard.
Your air is hot. Our air is like mainlining steam out of radiator.
So I'll see your 114 degrees at dawn and raise you 95 hot ones at noon with 94 per cent humidity.
Take a deep breath of desert air and I might need a sip of water.
One slap in the face of our heat and humidity and you'll be fricassee for supper. With a side order of mold.
So there. Na na na na na.