Hot. It’s hot. Too fucking hot. No, too hot for fucking. Humid too.
Sweat pooling. Bodily tissues liquefying. Fluids flashing to steam, blowing out through skin in bloody explosions. Boiled gasses flashing to plasma as high temperatures strip electrons away from atomic nuclei. Fundamental forces unifying, displaying operation of Grand Unified force as temperatures approach femtosecond-post-Big-Bang levels.
Too damn hot.
Oh, I need to update that graphic.
Yesterday, after NYRSF, Chris and I headed out to the The Powerpuff Girls movie, but I was an idiot and mixed up two theaters, and we wound up going to the one where the last showing started an hour earlier. So we saw Minority Report instead. It’s pretty good, with a surprising amount of dark humor, and a clever plot, even if there are a few holes.
Chris stayed over at my place, and today we ate at the Olive Vine and then headed over to her mother’s much better air-conditioned apartment. Somewhere along the way Chris lost the wallet insert holding her credit cards and ATM card. She called the restaurant to see if they’d found it, then made the calls to have all the card cancelled. Annoying, but probably not a disaster.
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