I hate cold weather!!!

So some people like the cold, you know, fires and blankets...not me. I want to be baking. I pay to lay in a box and feel my skin cook to a golden brown. They say it gives you cancer. I say cold air makes my backbone twist into a knot in an effort to find a warm spot in my gut. Living in south Georgia for most of my life, I realize I have no appreciation of true cold snaps, but every morning when I check the weather, I think of my friends in Atlanta who are fourteen degrees colder than me and thank God that I live in Valdosta again. I relish bright colors, flip-flops and sleeveless shirts. I know that these things are accompanied by gnats, sweat, and it-ain't the heat it's the humidity. But I countdown to these days...

Ah crap! My power just shut off and I'm in the middle of Hildegard's sitting on Ms. Muppet's Tuppet typing without any curds and whey cause they haven't brought my food yet. Now I realize my writing and tone have taken a certain turn, but due to the dastardly cold snap outside I'm going to take this as a sign that I should use tonight as a catharsis. WHY are they playing what could be described as island music when it's ten below a cat's teat outside??? Ms. Muffet wants her food! Is it Muppet or Muffet? And if it's Muppet, is she related to Kermit? And if it's not, wow, life must suck when your name is Muffet. As a seventh grade teacher, I can only imagine the jokes kids could come up with for that one. Okay, now that I think about it, I can't, it's just a retarded name. You can't even come up with a solid perverse joke from that one.

I've been made aware of an entirely new cold snap. Apparently my butt crack was revealed to the patrons behind me as I knelt before my tuppet. This epiphany came to me as I the door to Hildegard's opened and the cold snap attacked my nether regions. I will now return to the community tuppet where I can hide my face and hope that no one has seen my rear.

Curds sound kind of gross, don' t they?