we're hot!

And it's official! DC is the sixth hottest city in the nation! Duh. JUST LOOK AT ALL THESE FINE PIECES OF ASS!

Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooooooowwwww!

"But wait. Marissa, hold up. Did you even click the link?"

What link?

"The link you embedded in the top of this blog."

Pffft, no. Why would I do that?

"Jesus.... MAYBE BECAUSE IT LINKS TO THE ARTICLE BEYOND THE HEADLINE, YOU IDIOT!"

Huh? Are you saying you want me to read something? Interesting... Well, there's a first time for everything so perhaps I will give that a whirl. Just give me a minute to get my helper llama Eugene to move the cursor and give it a little *click* and...

Ahh, OK. I get it now. We're not hot as in physically attractive, but hot as in I want to fashion a line of unfashionable clothing out of Mr. Freeze pops and commute to work in a giant hamster ball filled with dry ice, you know, so the Mr. Freeze pops don't melt. Delicious.

Incidentally, the other cities on the list, in order of fifth through first, include Medford, Ore., Wichita, Kan., Montgomery, Ala., Laredo, Texas, and Yuma, Ariz. To my surprise, Orlando, Fla., was left off the list. That motherf*cker is hot as balls, to use the schmientific term. I learned that the hard way this weekend when I decided to wear pants to the shuttle launch.

Oh, did I just say shuttle launch?! I did! I was there! And it was the most spectacular 24 or so hours seconds of my life. If you want to nerd out with me, please do so here, where I equate my relationship to the U.S. space program to an addiction to black-tar heroin. By the way, I'm in total withdrawal right now. But at least I'm in total withdrawal in the air-conditioned confines of my dry-ice filled hamster ball. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have several hundred Mr. Freeze pops to purchase and affix to my person.