It's really hot, aka I hate my roommate

Temperature don't mean nothing for coolness, Ragu.

 

That's it. I buy you NO beers in Seattle!

 

When it hits midnight, and it's June 1, crank that AC until it's so cold you see your breath.

 

Currently in the low 60s here.

Earlier this week, I had scrape-able frost on my windshield.

If it's humid, the AC goes on.

If it's above 80 and no breeze, AC goes on.

I can tolerate 85 with a breeze as long as it's not humid -- an advantage to living in the woods.

But that's barely tolerate.

Above 85, I turn into a puddle.

It's not a pretty picture.

IJAG, you need to have a serious talk with your roomie. Either that or ship her my way in January (insert evil, maniacal laugh here.)

 

You're just drafting off my heat, IJAG.

 

Have I mentioned how much I love you, oh man who keeps my beer mug consistently full?

 

Wait. There's three of you and you have a cleaning lady?

 

I have but one word for you, dear: SCOREBOARD!

 

There's two of us.

And yes. We do. And I'd pay twice as much for her.

 

Does she clean in a hazmat suit, I hope?

 

I hate you.

(She doesn't clean my room or my bathroom. Just the common areas)

 

I know.

And my question still stands.