Okay.
I surrender. Unconditionally.
I capitulate to the heat Gods, or the flames of Beezel-Bubba, or whatever is going on in Wake County,NC.
When I said "95 Degrees is NOT HOT" it was absolutely NOT MEANT as a challenge!
It's so dang hot, Barry Saunders says in the Raleigh New and Observer today that the early bird needs a pot holder to pick up the worm. Film at eleven
It's so hot I'm sweating butter. And I don't want a hot biscuit!
It's so hot the train whistles are limp.
It's so hot I'm delirious...seeing mirages of snow drifts.
It's so hot I put the Haagen-Daz in front of the air conditioner vent to soften.
It's so hot I saw two agents fighting about who would pick up a hot referral. Neither wanted it.
It's so hot that "sweating the small stuff" is not optional.
It's so hot that "No sweat" is a lie, in any context.
It's so hot that all the beige in Cary is running.
It's so hot I'm thinking "buck nekkid" might just be appropriate professional dress. (Hold on. Don't get your hopes up folks. That was humor.)
It's so hot the cat let the dog catch her, and the dog never moved.
It's so hot that cruising ActiveRain has raised the humidity.
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