It's not the heat ...

Boy oh boy have I been hearing a whole lot of whining lately.

"It's so hot."

"I have to run my air conditioning all day."

"It's too hot to cook, let's take a taxi to the sushi place."

People! Get. A. Grip. You're not in Calcutta.

What amazes me most about this weather is that folks complain more about the heat than the inappropriately dressed citizens. It's getting disgusting. People, just because it's over one-hundred degrees it doesn't mean you should bare your seven flabby elbows and fifteen ass cheeks while you shuffle around town in FLIP FLOPS.

I'm not saying you have to wear linen or seersucker suits with a straw hat, but you also don't have to wear teeny-tiny shorts that show your butt crack. I swear to God I was walking up the subway behind a woman whose ill-fitting white pants were so low that her hairy ass crack was exposed. At first I thought it was her vagina! I didn't know if she was coming or going!

And gay boys -- the slack shorts are very fancy but if I can see the outline of your balls they are TOO TIGHT!

And taxi drivers, ENOUGH. Use deodorant. Wash daily. 'Cause I'm starting a silent protest. If your taxi driver is smelly, tip poorly. Or tip in trial-sized Mitchum.

People, we can't avoid summer. But if we work together we can make it less disgusting.