Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Today I am thankful that I don't have to ride the subway twice a day, five days a week in the thick of summer. Kevin describes the subway stations as being "hotter than the devil's breath" (I think he's been watching a little too much Paula Deen) but I liken them to feeling like you're Carly from Days of Our Lives when she was buried alive. It's a suffocating, stifling, raw fucking heat down there.
And it's not so fresh above ground either. I've got a pretty good idea why all the rich people around here flee this island during August - it was 95º + 100% humidity and ZERO breeze today. Combine that with the garbage, general stankness and vehicular and human exhaust of Manhattan and you get one fine lookin' lady right here. I've been sporting a couple of super sexy baloney (bologna?) pits and some beady upper lip and boobsweat that made me look like I've dipped my bits in olive oil. And to add insult to injury, I'm already using men's deodorant to help* curb my spicy Mediterranean sweat glands.
Time to go take another shower.
*It's not actually helping