Time is running out. Sure, I’ve said that before, but of course, the times I said it previously were uttered in the context of a Donnie Darko-esque vortex of hell that had engulfed and threatened to swallow me. I leave civilization in about a week (all right, a little less than a week, considering that it’s well after noon, but we’ll say that’s negligible for now) and my desire to visit some of my favorite places and do some of my favorite activities is being held hostage by the Floridian fiery-pits-of-hell heat. Holy smokes it’s hot. It’s Asia-hot, and has been for the last week. Chances are good it will be Asia-hot again for the next week. The ‘World is crowded, too, and with the horrifically oppressive temperatures, I cannot seem to justify a visit to the parks, no matter how much I want to go.



But I managed to go to Disney MGM Studios last night to watch Fantasmic! What a great idea, until the wicked queen conjured up a deluge and the show was canceled in mid-Cave of Wonders. Bummer, but the singing of “Singin’ in the Rain” that I started (complete with a few ‘watermelons’) would have had my good old cousin, Debbie Reynolds, dancing in her slicker. Really, I have no one single person to blame for this beastly luck, so I just direct my anger at the Audio-Animatronic effigy of W. What a dick.