It’s a dry heat

No TV till middle of week. Will have been three months. Been really nice. In the meantime I watched a zillion movies off these Mill Creek fifty flick box sets. All Fyl’s science fiction flicks now. Lots of incredible obscurities I’ve never heard of. The heat wave gives me the excuse to lie about digging the mad monster get ups and occasional mind fuck plot devices and not think that I should be doing something else, even though I should. A breeze blows through the room with the hint of distant fires. I sip coffee and think about roasting a sweet potato for dinner. I love this weather. The laziness, the torpor. It’s a dry heat, like Noel Coward.

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