Tuesday, August 07, 2007

Hey there, Florida, I'm coming to your house at the end of next month, so if you could do your best not to be so hot and humid that I want to go on a really slow, stop-for-a-mint-julep-because-I've-got-the-vapors, murderous rampage, I'd appreciate it. I'm planning on seeing some sassy grandmothers, snacking on a delicious new baby, visiting the pool hall and the beach at night, hanging out with some of my favorite exboyfriends and funny girls, shopping with my mom, and more inside jokes than you can shake a stick at. This will all be a lot easier if I'm not in jail for heat-inspired murderin'.

By the way, anyone who says that you can kill fruit flies by putting out a little cup with whiskey in it is lying. Unless my fruit flies are mad that I used the Jack instead of the Makers, in which case, whatever fruit flies. Relatedly, I should maybe stop taking housekeeping advice from friendly homeless guys.

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