This is completely unacceptable:
You Weather Gods are officially on notice. This will not be tolerated. Cease and desist or you’ll leave me no choice but to… Fuck. I got nothing. Too hot to conjure up idle threats. I’m just going to have to wallow in my own sweat until autumn.
You win again, Mister Sun. You win again.
Update:
Ok, really? This is how it’s gonna be, huh? I get lippy so you decide to fuck with me even more?
I… I’m sorry.
Look. I get it. You’re in charge. You’re the fucking boss and I’m just this miserably little peon who shouldn’t have called you out to begin with.
I surrender.







