105 degrees today with 1,000% humidity. Gorgeous! Watch out for that sandstorm around midday, wouldn’t want sand in your melted ice cream. Perfect day for nothing. Scorching hazy sun reflecting off the Persian Gulf cooking your brain right inside your fucking head, like soldiers in Vietnam when we made them wear those steel helmets that heated like a skillet to enhance their experience. Oh, that isn’t the Persian Gulf? I suppose it is Lake Michigan. But are we really going to split hairs here? What is the difference between Lake Michigan and the Persian Gulf right now, other than some U.S. Navy warships cruising around some off-shore rigs protecting Saudi oil interests on our collective tax dime? Not a fucking thing. I’m pretty sure that if you wander down to Oak Street Beach today there will be at least a few dipshits in burkas.
One of the positives of a heat wave is that it does a little spring-cleaning of the drug-addicted vagrants. Their old sweat pants, moon boots, stained parka and woolen cap don’t seem to be what the doctor ordered when the mercury shoots for the sun. But of course I’m kidding(ish), I don’t want people to die of heat stroke. Driving home from Midway airport last night I did see a rather sane-looking chap bent over at the waist with hands on knees, in the absolute dead fucking center of Cicero Ave. He was shirtless and looking a bit, um, “wild”. He has the right idea. No better way to beat the heat than to have a Tahoe ram you in the ass at 50mph. Off to the air-conditioned hospital for you to suck on ice chips. If anyone sees me shirtless, bobbing and weaving in the middle of Division Street today, you’ll know the score.
Not my best effort on this post. A bit disjointed, marginally funny. What the fuck do you want? Not really thinking straight this week. My body was built for hunting, gathering and warfare on forested plains in northern Europe. It certainly wasn’t meant to scurry up fruit trees in Equatorial Guinea. Whatever, fuck off.