It may be trite to speak of the weather, but sometimes it just feels right. After a month under the coastal clouds - fog, marine layer, cold and a windy Catalina eddy - I now find myself in Riverside burning up in the heat. Two straight days of 100 degree weather and more to come. I believe the technical meteorological term is "super-fucking hot."
My recipe for survival is cold soup, climate control and inertia. I may throw a bit of beer into that mix as well.
Nicholas Sparks would never write a novel "Under the Riverside Sun." Nope, it would be more like "Fuck It's Hot and Nobody Gets Horny When They are Sweaty."
Reptilian Davidian.
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