PLANS! THEY HAVE PLANS!

Naturally I am not thrilled by the heat wave. My legs will probably be unlivable for much of the next four days, and it will be an understatement to say that mister charming and I won't have anything in common. But here in San Francisco we won't have flooding, normal in The South. Just tropical heat. Birds of carrion will ride the thermals overhead, their keen eyes on the lookout for Parisian elderly not surviving in the absence of effective air conditioning while their younger relatives gaily gallavant around the Costa Del Sol among the naked Dutch and Germans, or sell off their children in the souks of northern Africa. As, one hears, is standard. Also, climate change does not exist. That's just a liberal Chinese hoax. Temperatures will return to normal, we've been assured, when all the looters in North Carolina get shot
During what respected politician Donald Trump calls "one rough hour".

One presumes that all-American hero Kyle Rittenhouse will be driven there by his mother and unleashed upon the unsuspecting populace. He'll slide into the stagnant water and swim, like Florida Man, barely below the turbulent surface, deploying his massive jaws on the bare legs of French-speakers, biting and snapping ferociously, infecting them with rabies.

What neither Trump nor his fellow travelers understand is that this will create an army of zombies preying on the natives. So we might as well write-off North Carolina for the next generation, nothing but poor people there bleeding from infected wounds and trying not to drown when they get to the voting booths -- which, for security reasons, won't be in their neighborhoods, they'll have to drive for miles or take non-existent public transit.

POLLING PLACE

Normally I try to stay as far away from the deranged maga-generated sexual fantasies of the red belt as I possibly can. But what usually happens after such disasters in the slope browed part of the United States is that refugees end up in the Bay Area, where they are generously housed and fed and engage in crime. Drugs, rapists, and problem cases.
Also, one presumes, a few good people. But not their best.



I'm sorry. Non-existent climate change and election-year rhetoric bring out the venomous liberal trailer parker in me. The heat, especially, infects me with a desire to become a childless cat lady. It will be over soon.

Only five more weeks and I'll be a gob-fearing christian again.
And in a week or so, civilized weather ought to return.

Till then expect lapses in logic and continuity.
And often bananas for scale.

I have never seen any of the 'Purge' movies.
But I really should sometime.
They're a blueprint.

I hate heat.



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