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Muy Caliente

Sunday, Jun. 22, 2008 - 12:39 a.m.

It's hot here.

Why? Because I am here. It's my damned fault.

Yet again, in some sick and twisted Pied Piperish way, the phrases Record High Temperatures, High Fire Danger, and Red Flag Warning seem to follow me to wherever I end up. "I dunno what happened; It was in the 70s last week," said Old Buddy Dave when I first arrived.

The cat has taken to sleeping on the cool bathroom floor.

I'm almost ready to do the same thing.

But according to the weather reports, the extreme highs will be over with after today.

John says the fog rolled in there last night up in San Francisco and that the first digit of the temperature up there is a five.

At night, here in Anaheim, we're down to a nice brisk 78.

Brrr!

---

Here's an excellent blog about Tiger Woods, by a fellow named Bill Elliot.

I've seen Mr Elliot's work before but this one is particularly good.

And in other news, we get a mealy mouthed apology from Johnny Miller for saying Rocco Mediate looked like the kind of guy who cleaned Tiger's pool.

Jesus wept.

Tell you what, Johnny. Go play golf with Rocco Mediate. He'll clean your CLOCK and he'll drink your milkshake.

And you'll smile while he does it, too, because Rocco is more of a gentleman than a baker's dozen of you.

---

One more thing: Somebody using a Cox Communications ISP address based in Tucson, Arizona, recently spent a five hundred minute, one hundred forty page interval of time reading this diary.

Please do me a favor and identify yourself via an email to me.

I have a feeling I know who it is, but I'd like you to confirm just to ease my mind.

I appreciate it! Thank you!

---

Okay, that's it. Have a good Sunday.

---

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