HOT AS HADES

Apparently its true that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, 'cause the lovely Miss Rita (the hurricane) has left Austin in the midst of a heatwave you wouldn't feckin' believe. I'm assuming that although she may have turned away and not dropped torrential rain on the ACL festival, she wanted to ensure that we knew she'd been in the nighbourhood. Thats right boys n' girls, its in the 100s here, but no worries it goes all the way down to the mid 70s at night. I'm so glad I only went to ACL on Friday, by Sunday not only had the temperature gone up to 108 but the dust was kickin' up something fierce. Thea came home coughing black stuff and I was seriously worried her asthma was coming back after all these years.

So I know the question that is nigglin' away at your brains is... what the fuck is Bette wearing these days. Here's the deal, its true that black clothing is a sun magnet, however, that's pretty much all I own. I've had to get the arms out, from the shoulders down, not a pretty sight but fuck it all the fashion rules have had to go out the window. Y'all will be pleased to know that I haven't gone totally mad, no shorts thank you.

We interrupt this discourse on the heat for a telephone call from the Naked Kobrinsky who has just returned from a Yoga retreat. Dude what are you like? She's back in San Francisco practising her driving so she can take the test. Then she and August are off to New York to spend a couple of weeks with his mum. There you go, a Sarah update for all of y'all back in blighty.

I've discovered that if I come outside Thea's flat I can piggyback on someone's internet. Even though its got dark, its just too fuckin' hot to sit here any longer and the ants are starting to attack so I'm retiring to Thea's air conditioned flat for a little dinner.