Migawd, those poor people who have to work outside in this UNHOLY heat and humidity. This morning it’s a swamp out there. And yeah, that’s the only way to describe it.
But as Ruby and I swam around the block through the soggy air, we came across one yard dude after another slamming around in this heat: pushing lawnmowers (or, if they were lucky, riding them), through heat and humidity thick enough float in. Horrible, horrible morning.
Walk in the door at 7:30 a.m. Ringy dingy ringy dingy ringy dingy…. Goddam phone solicitor!
Me to A**-hole, at high volume: GET OFF MY PHONE AND STAY OFF MY GOD-DAMNED PHONE!!!!!!
God, how I hate that. Really, I should disconnect the phone when I go to bed at night. But I’m afraid if some emergency comes up, M’hijito won’t be able to reach me. Or I may not be able to reach him.
Phone soliciting, though, really should be illegal. In these parts, though: far from it. Here, it’s a prison industry.
No kidding. When your phone jangles with a nuisance call, chances are there’s a convict on the other end of the line.
Even if he or she weren’t serving a term for some fun crime, I’d still rather not talk with them. Especially not over the phone. Especially not at 7:00 in the morning!