mister sits on hat.

the heat, oh god, the humanity. it's soul fucking hot i wanna shout. i'm dreaming awake of the frigid lake. well thanks to h.g. for the air. went into the searing kitchen to make some din and i amos' died. still i heroically mustered a grapefruit kale black lentil rice dish. in this heat you can be a hero just by living, and if you drive the dog in the cherriot miles to the blessed relief of the lake you a supahero. what if we had no air, and no lake. what if we was just trumpfucked. reasons to be cheerful, resistance to the killers, relief from the killing heat.