I celebrate Christmas. Hard. These are pictures of Christmas. They were taken recently. I think that means it's Christmas time. My apartment is steam heated. The colder it is outside, the warmer it is in our apartment. By the time I get bundled up to take the dog out, I'm sweaty. By the time I get unbundled, I'm sweaty. Outside, I wear a fleece jacket, a scarf, mittens, winter coat, hat and snow boots. Inside, I wear gym shorts and t-shirts. I took our apartment's temperature the other day. It was 84 degrees. I'm not old and so 84 degrees is really warm. When it's 84 degrees outside, I turn on the air conditioner. I sweat in my sleep. It's like summer camp. I think birds are trying to migrate to our apartment. My grandparents are wintering in here. It's hot...

I'm reading Graham Foust's Necessary Strangers. Has it ever occurred to anyone else that Mr. Foust is a much cooler Steven Wright? It has to me. I don't mean that dismissively either. Steven Wright is often boring, Foust never is. They also have similar delivery styles/speaking patterns. I think the world needs more Graham Fousts, but not so many that it gets boring. Than he'd just BE Steven Wright, and as I mentioned, Steven Wright is already boring (sometimes).