Headline Suggestion for Toronto Star: "It's really, really hot."

(Actually I haven't looked at the Star in the past couple days so that may very well have already been used)

How hot you ask? Rather than give you a metric reading, allow me to paint the picture of hotness. Let me vicariously impart to you a little of the hotness of me (and I am speaking temperature-wise... don't worry, it's an easy mistake to make).
It's so hot that the first thing I do when I get home from work is take my clothes off. Now this isn't an unusual thing for me. I usually take my clothes off whenever I come home and get behind a closed door, no matter the season, or the temperature in said room. The difference here is that normally I put clothes back on after I take them off. Sweatpants to be specific. I am a great fan of sweatpants at home. I won't wear them out, but man, I love a pair of sweatpants in the house. But now it's so hot, I just come home and sit in my underwear until I'm required to leave the room again.
It's so hot that last night when I was eating the ice cream (in my underwear) I purchased in my emergency foray into A&P (NOT in my underwear), I made no attempt to escape the drips from the melting frost on the outside of the container. I let them drip and slide down my legs.
It's so hot that I bought flavoured water because it was all that they had at the store. The Culligan man chose a heat wave, of all times, to be late in our delivery of water, so there's no water in the water cooler, and it's so hot that the water out of the cold tap isn't cold. It hits the air and becomes instantly tepid.
It's really, really hot.

In other news, I have surpassed the photocopier in intelligence, having today fixed a jam which required a screwdriver -- an implement which, it turns out, the almighty copier couldn't handle itself. It covered my hands in toner and burned the tip of my finger to spite me and my mastery of its parts, but I fixed it nonetheless. The shredder stood nearby and chuckled, and I fed it a CD as a treat.

Also my boss and I spent several minutes this morning discussing the finer points of Blade Trinity. I knew I couldn't be the only one in the world who gets such a huge kick out of Ryan Reynolds saying "You cock-juggling, thunder cunt!" Awesome.

And now it is time for me to do something useful with my overheated self.

Song of the day:
Into the Fire ~ Thirteen Senses