Summer in Chico

When Monstro and I were first courting, I googled him and read all of his opinion columns online at the Chico State newspaper. My favorite warned Chico summer visitors to be careful when they stand up so as not to hit one’s head on the sun.

It’s only funny because it’s true. It hit 104 last week and will only get hotter from there. We were at a barbeque on Saturday; the host kept the backyard cool with overhead water misters. It was just like being at Magic Mountain, except the food was free and there were fewer rides. Kyle made a big mess of ceviche and gave us the leftovers.

The students left a month ago, and now summer school is over so *all* the students are gone, leaving only the Chicoans (Chee-kho’-hans) to roam the streets. I was downtown yesterday and had a “28 Days Later” flashback (not to be confused with a “28 Days” flashback, which would be another thing entirely, and unlikely as I never saw that flick).

Oh well, at least that means it takes less time to get food.

Random weekend occurance: A taxi pulled up to our place and a bag-carrying driver came to our door. “Is this 376 A?” he asked, and when I said “yes” he said, “Did you folks call for the cigarettes?”

We did not. But I could tell that Monstro thought it was a great idea!

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