Bitch, Bitch, Bitch

And we're bitchin' about The Usual.  Regarde:

Let's just say 94 degrees with 20+ mph winds is a lot like standing in front of God's Own Blow Dryer.  Sayin' "but it's a DRY heat," while true, doesn't do a damned thing to mitigate the impact of direct sun on the side of El Casa Móvil De Pennington.  It goes without sayin' the wind is too high to put my awning down, so we must live with direct sun.  Is my AC workin' overtime?  Why, yes... yes it IS.  It might could be even worse tomorrow, as the forecast is for 101 degrees.  I hope the wind dies down by then.

We were out in this krep a lil earlier, doing a remove and replace operation to fit the Lovely Miss Zukiko with her new stored energy device.  We accomplished that mission but aborted the wash and polish operation that was to follow, given my hair was well and truly dry enough.  Well, sorta, if'n ya don't count the sweat.  I know: TMI.

So now we're indoors... relaxing bein' punished with one of those Punishers I went on about last month and taking long deep swigs from a glass full of smooth and creamy Fransizkaner to take the punishing bite away from the lips.  I'm not the sorta guy who is into anything even remotely resembling BDSM, with the possible exceptions of Thai food, New Mexico chiles, and these Punishers, all three of which hurt SO good.

And so it goes.