Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Now we talk about the... weather!

Ford Prefect: Six pints of bitter, and quickly, please. The world's about to end. Barman: Oh, yes, sir? Nice weather for it. Well, I'm not particularly British - I don't talk about the weather unless I really, really have to. But for the past couple of days, the weather here has been bothering me. You see, Atlanta does not have the concept of Spring or Fall. There is summer. And there is winter. Fine, I've been here for the past couple of years, and that's something that I've gotten used to. Until last week, the weather was hot. Hot as in, blazing hot. Somewhere in the 80s, and it was even in the 90s less than a month ago. And like any normal self-respecting fellow, I was whining about how hot the weather was when it became cold. Now, I don't mean, it gradually became cold. I mean, it turned cold, the way people turn into penguins - that's right, they don't. Well, not unless you're Ford Prefect, but that is not the point. The point is that the weather turned cold, instantaneously. From the 80s, the weather fell down to the freezing 40s. Can you imagine how that would feel? No, you probably don't. Well, I can tell you how that feels - it feels cold. Very, very cold. To make things worse yet, we hadn't signed up for gas heating yet (well, for one, gas is freakin' expensive at the moment and for another, we're lazy ass bums). So, the past couple of days have done a world of good to my love-life (well, you know, pretty hot girls calling me and offering me warmth and stuff). Anyway, it's cold and I'm cold and that's the point. There. If you're a hot pretty girl, you know what to do. If you're not, well, too bad. Find a couple and send them along. If you're my girlfriend, I'm kidding.