Be The Big Naked Ball of Grossness
It’s hot here, like an oven on fire. 97°F on the inside. 5 fans blowing hot air, a vortex of hellish fumes swirling away from my sweaty, unclothed and gasping corpse. The cats are plotting mutiny again, although slowed by the heat — a lethargic coup on hold as they hug the water dish. It was just winter yesterday…
