Hotter than fuck again today, dear reader.  It was so hot today, a gang of snakes showed up at the back door, evidently demanding entrance.  I don’t speak snake, but what they seemed to be saying was, “Nope…this is too much, we’re done, let us into your climate-controlled paradise, please, goddammit.”  I patiently explained to them that while I am beyond sympathetic with their plight (imagine having to crawl across the hot-ass ground on your taint all day), they were collectively shit out of luck when it came to gaining entry into my air-conditioned Xanadu.  One of them tried to get a little pushy, so he got launched into a neighboring yard.  The other two seemed to get the hint and slithered away hurriedly on their scaly taints.

N.P.: “West Coast Poplock” – Ronnie Hudson