Good Christ, it's fucking hot.
It's only June, and already we're in the triple-digits. There's been more wind than normal, at least according to our untrained analysis, so things might not be as bad as they could.
But still, it's hot.
The Chronicle is offering a haiku contest where people are urged to go all 5-7-5 about the heat wave, but that's way too sophisticated for our bog-Irish ass. Instead we offer limericks on the situation.
1. Limerick the First: On the Struggles of the Not-So-Working Class
River Oaks ladies get Botox
Much more often than they ever go blow cocks
But head out the door
When it's hundred-and-four
And the stuff melts much faster than snow blocks
2. Limerick the Second: Of a Certain Neighborhood
In Montrose it's so freaking hot
That some fellas are in quite a spot
They want to be safe
But the heat makes them chafe
"Go no rubber?" Hell, give it a shot
3. Limerick the Third: Tow-Truck Blues
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In traffic you will overheat
As you're stuck on some jammed Houston street
The temperature gauge
Will reach a bad stage
And your paycheck will now be dead meat
4. Limerick the Fourth: Life in a Dying Medium
Reporters would all like to strangle
A boss who's in search of an angle
That hasn't been done
On the terrible sun
But instead they take English and mangle
As to the last one, in the immortal words of Sideshow Bob, "Guilty...as charged."