there’s LSD in the tuna salad. for shame, latin american cafe

julie warshaw
July 19, 2012

In the summer time, there’s a yearly “What part of the country is the hottest?” pissing contest. Every city; every state takes part. “It’s hotter here.” “Yeah, but we have more humidity.” Why is this a contest? No one wins. It’s like a driving-alone-on-the-freeway-late-night game of How Long Can I Keep My Eyes Closed Before Running Off the Road? IT’S HOT EVERYWHERE. Why is the person whose neighborhood cools to a tolerable level at night in July the loser? I’ll tell you why. Screw them for inhabiting an area which registers acceptable temperatures at a time when the rest of us do not.

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