I need a jogging partner.

Blargh. It's almost May and I'm over the cold. Completely over the cold. If I wanted cold, I'd go back to Switzerland and at least have beautiful, cotton-like snow to play in as my company. What happened to the heat wave we had? Was that some sort of a sick joke? I feel like I know what blue balls feels like. It felt like that heat came and went and I'm reminded of the time when this kid had an American Pie moment and I really don't want to go there but it was a let down. I am let down, frustrated and craving more heat. For fuck's sake, I'm Cuban. I want tropical heat. Give me hot, muggy, mosquito-filled, clothes-sticking weather. I'll also take some coconut trees, banana trees, warm sand and waveless water. Combine that with a joint and a bottle of dark rum and I'll be in heaven.

Working out in the cold sucks. The reason why is because EVERYONE ONE IN THE GOD DAMN UNIVERSE FINDS IT FUNNY TO SLAP MY ASS. Well, the issue with slapping my ass
"because it's just RIGHT THERE" in my god damn spandex work out pants is because it fucking hurts. Believe it or not, that big pile of fat you would like to call your pillow actually has some nerves in it that FEEL PAIN. It feels like I'm being stabbed with millions of icicles and it makes me want to stab everything and everyone around me within a 500 yard radius.

As my final warning to everyone that reads this, if you come near my ass when it's less than 75 degrees out I will cut off your arms, rub them in salt and lemon, sew them back on slowly with a rusty needle and then nail you to a cross.