Oh christ, humidity, now there is the clencher. Sure on a hot day you could be sweating tell its literally rolling down your face like a river.

Throw in enough humidity in that picture and it begins to feel like you are trying to breath Cambell's soup.

I swear I think I coughed up a little noodle in the shape of a star yesterday. Which is really weird since I haven't eaten that shit in years.

Now, figure in living three blocks from a large body of water.

You are now humidity's number one bitch.

Summer time with temperatures ninety degrees an up for roughly sixteen hours a day. Humidity levels reaching around ninety percent nad nastily increasing with each breath. Living near more water then what you find in the liquer bottles of your average strip club. Be aclumated to a colder weather with blowing snow, freezing rain, and wind chills dropping the temperatures in the deep negatives that lasts six months or more of the year.

Welcome to my hell.

Yeah sure, its quite a bit hotter if you head down south of here, but really. You try living in a state that from fall into spring the temperatures ranges from "my, its really cold out here" to "holy shit, I think my balls just recceded back into my body". The later being much more a common accurance. Then go from that six to eight months of the year to temperatures reaching the triple digits and you swearing that damn sun is never going to go down ever again.

Let me help you warmer climate people out here a little bit so you understand what I'm saying.

Alright, climb into one of those walk in freezers. Turn that bad boy down to something like five degrees farenheit.

You with me so far.

Now shave enough ice to make a fine layer about three feet deep.

Sounds kind of nasty doesn't it. Wait, it gets worse.

Now get yourself one of those giant, industrial sized fans. You know the kind they use in movies to simulate tornado like winds. Now crank that baby up inside so it blows all that shaved ice around and blasts you right in your face or in your ass *your choice*.

This, for you warm blooded southeners, is what us northeners call "wind chill factor". So, if you manage to make a trip to say Michigan in the middle of December, you won't be sitting there staring at the weather man like he is some kind of alien creature when he tells you the temperature is five degrees out, but the wind chill factor brings it down to negative thirty five degrees.

You got that all set up do ya.

Ok,now live in that shit for about six months. Then, step out of it into ninety seven degree weather with ninety four percent humidity.

Sounds like it sucks rancid dead monkey dong doesn't it.

Once again, I reiterate, welcome to my hell.

Well, I shall be back with yet another {sarcasm}thrilling{/sarcasm} instalment in this diary.

And maybe it won't be hotter then the under side of a baboon's testicles. That way it won't completely kill off my creative side, leaving me a bitter, perfusely sweating, smart ass with nothing more constructive to say then bitching about how hot it is.

Have a good one folks.

It's about time - Wednesday, Jul. 07, 2004
An Honor for Chrome - Friday, Feb. 20, 2004
A great loss - Monday, Oct. 20, 2003
a terrible announcement. - Tuesday, Sept. 09, 2003
Chrome speaks: - Friday, Sept. 05, 2003