… for all the idiots who spent all winter saying there’s no such thing as global warming. It’s time for me to slap you like your mama shoulda.
First of all, I watched a documentary this weekend (that’s what they call things on TV that are TRUE, you nudnicks!) and they showed a graph (an actual GRAPH!) that showed that, since the 1980’s, every summer has been “the hottest summer on record” — until the NEXT summer. So it gets hotter every summer than it was the summer before… or I guess you could say “warmer”…
Then Chuckweasel and I worked an outdoor wedding and now we’re both sunburnt to bejeezus and back. And I don’t usually even burn (Chuckweasel does, he’s very white), but these folks thought it would be a great idea to have the wedding at 1:30 in the afternoon — yes, the exact time frame when you’re NOT SUPPOSED TO BE OUTSIDE! So even my superior melanin factory of a skin tone was no match for Super Sun! I now have a tanline… of the DRESS I wore to the wedding. Just the sheath, though, not the billowy sleeves — the sun beat right through them. Sex-ay.
I really think we as people may need to rethink this whole “doin’ shit outside” thing. In the winter, you freeze to death or get buried in a snowdrift, and in the summer, you turn into a charcoal briquette in exactly 8 seconds. I was never a fan of “doin’ shit outside” to start with (once it was no longer age-appropriate for me to dig in the dirt for earthworms to take on a tour of the yard), plus I grew up in the 80’s and 90’s, when any parent who wanted even a minute of peace in the house was selling their plasma for video game systems. And Dear Sweet Mama likes her some peace, y’all.
PS: Kitteh update: Callie Jean has claimed Luci as “her” cat — she washes her the most and lets Luci sleep snuggled up against her. I thought Mina was gonna be mine and Marceau Chuckweasel’s, but she sleeps with the Weasel WITHOUT trying to suck his blood, and Marceau loves him some Mommy, so I don’t know.