When Heat Produces Links of Love

Good gravy in Gainesville it is humid around here, so much so that I can't even wear a bra due to my underwires causing sweaty havoc. My neighbor just showed up at the door and wondered why my swamp cooler isn't producing. What good is a swamp cooler when your house already feels like Southern Spain in August? Just more humidity and pickled chicken legs. Wait, how did you know I've been watching too much of the Travel Channel?

Speaking of travel, I really hope you've been treating yourself to my brother Topher's
London Blog. He is a professor that takes students over to the Motherland for semesters abroad. The first time I went to England I was with Topher . . . and my parents . . . and my perpetually motion sick Grandmother Marion. As we boarded a double decker to check out the sights, Christopher took off to Stratford-Upon-Avon to experience the ghosts of Shakespeare. At one point we turned the corner to see St. Paul's Cathedral where Di got married to Prince Whatever and I thought Why isn't Topher here to see this!? and that is because Topher loves any life story that ends in conspiracy theories. But Shakespeare, along with his gorgeous wife Lisa and their genius crew, holds a predominant space in his heart. So off he went. Besides look at him now, London is his classroom!

The thing is, I really love his
Jolly Porter posts, but his London posts are more frequent and oh-so-very witty. When I read his review of Wicked I was reminded that we share the same blood. Blood that doesn't appreciate over- hyped musicals while smart ones go dark. But that is just us. And while I am in the mood to brag, check him out in these two clips from Sack Lunch TV:

Oh my fireballs (do I have those?) my back is trickling sweat.

Did I tell you that my little sister a.k.a NieNie had her whimsical blog featured on Martha Stewart's Blueprint editor's blog here? How delicious! I am so proud of her. And I miss her too. No doubt she is hotter than I am right now, in that voluptuous Arizona sun.

(Chup will absolutely not like that I called the sun voluptuous.)

(But Chup, can I call myself voluptuous?)

Before I turn into a vat of salty goo and therefore melt my voluptuousness away, I have to send a word out to my long-loving friend Katy B who invited Chup and I over to tour her gorgeous condo in Provo's Wells Fargo building. Um, yes that place is just lovely. The views are fantastic! The architecture so urban. She has original artwork (and bar stools.) I had to reconstruct Chup's jaw after it repeatedly hit the floor. We are ready to move in, as soon as Katy will have us (and Ralph.)

Katy was also kind enough to answer my unending questioning about her new approach to life, specifically eating, which we discussed over dinner. You can read all about that business here and may I just say that I think it is absolutely smart? Katy is smart. Don't you love smart friends?

Yes, so there I was at dinner with Chup and Katy downtown when we saw my parents with Lucy and Andrew, left-over boxes in hand, toothpicks in mouths, like they all just shared a pleasant dinner and strolling downtown. And so anyway where was my invite? Sure, I was having a delightful dinner of my own, but at least they could've called to see if
I'd like to come. I'd like the opportunity at least to say "no thank you."

Look, I could be even more unforgiving if it weren't so hot. And if I wasn't braless.

Cause when I am braless, baby, it's all good.

***SYTYCD Viewers*** Now that Dominic is gone the show can be 78% less awkward, no more disturbing kissing of unsuspected partners and Cat can stop getting sexually harassed in front of billions of viewers while turning a vibrant shade of red. I think we all did a good thing.

Good work us!

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