Sloth-like

Man, I tell you, what a day.

Hot out there, eh, farmboy?

Man, it's so fuckin' hot and so fuckin' humid I could almost swear that I'm back in central Texas. I don't feel like doing nothing but hanging out in air conditioning.

That's what we need to do on these hot days.

Except I have no air conditioning. All I can do is be hot and sweat and wait it out.

It's so fuckin' weird outside, man. It's all gray and miserable, which is no big deal for Oregon. But, fuck, it's so fuckin' hot. It was like, what, 97 degrees? I know it got up that high. I had heard that it was supposed to hit 99 degrees. I have heard, however, that tomorrow it's down to 85.

That's a good drop.

Yeah, it is. That's not too bad, 85 degrees. I'll take that.

What happens tonight, farmboy?

I've gotten into this show called The Killing. It's pretty good -- uneven, but good. So that's what I'll do. As far as food, it's leftover time.

It's pretty boring, but, hey, it's a hot day in August and that's what it's supposed to be. Boring.

Boring can be okay.

Yeah. Especially when it's so fuckin' hot that you can barely move. This is the kind of day the term "sloth-like" was invented for, you know?

At least it cools down at night here, though. You gotta look at the bright side, you know, count  your blessings, all that shit.

But it's still hot…

Fuckin' hot, man. Ain't you been listening?