It's a Cold Heat

One hundred and five degrees in the shade. That was the temperature inside my garage this afternoon. Which of course got me chompin' at the bit to write up a tale of The Great Icepocalypse of Ought Six. A drama in real life that includes families and trees split apart by layers of ice, twenty-mile detours, a missing generator, a fat red pinky finger, and a passel of genius-slapping morons.

My internal temperature has lowered two degrees just thinking about it.