Yes, but it isn't just the humidity

It’s hot in Mobile. Hot. Like, I mean, I went jogging at 6:45 this morning and stopped sweating at, like, 8:34 tonight. And that’s only because I decided to have my 8-olive-martini in the bath tub. Have I mentioned I like olives?

Right. So, I was discussing how hot it is. See, it isn’t just that it is hot. I drive a black car. That adds a bit. And I wear suits to work. And who’s freaking idea was this? Men, who are always burning up are clothed in layers year round, while women, who we all know are cold as a penguin’s bum until they hit the “change” get to run about in degrees of revealing attire. So, the secretaries gripe about how cold it is in the office while wearing spaghetti straps and mini-skirts while the senior partners sweat through their freshly starched dress shirts. Do you have any idea how much it costs to dry clean a suit! Sheesh, it’s hot. So, like, God forbid anything ever happen to my lovely bride, I’m gonna find me a woman just hitting menopause, and we’re gonna live out our days together, paying exorbitant power bills, shivering happily ‘neath a 56,000 BTU window unit in a 100 square foot room, singing Christmas carols and eating Otter pops. I love the Gulf Coast. But man, it is hot.