too much information -- and if you don't like it...fuck off, lady

From the SWELTERING Summer of 2006:

Earlier this week I spent four fabulous days on location in Orlando, Florida on a television shoot for Disney.

First, please allow me to say that it was my very first time there and Florida is a lovely place; all green and lush and tropical. The sunset doesn't look like that in California; it was so perfect that it almost looked like a huge, fake CG sky. Unbelievably gorgeous.

However, having said that...please allow me to also say that although Gregory wasn't there with me to test it out, I can only hypothesize that the following is true:

THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS SPONTANEOUS SEX IN FLORIDA IN THE SUMMERTIME...

because, let me tell you, you can take a nice, cool shower in the morning and expertly maneuver some really good Coast soap all up in that motherfucker, but five minutes after you walk out into that HIDEOUS HUMID HEAT...your muff is a SWELTERING NASTY MESS.

That's right, you heard me correctly, my friends:

Florida is The Land of The Sweaty Cooter.

Never in my entire gottdamned life have I ever experienced such an outrageous assault on my personal hygiene. Just so you know, I keep my shit all nice and trimmed up. Further, I am one of those biological mutants who NEVER sweats anywhere (aside from my upper lip and hairline) -- and yet I had to change my chonies like three times a day. I don't know how you people hang with that horseshit. I simply could not live there on the muggy fucking surface of the sun and go on about my day and then have my husband impetuously say, "Hey, baby -- let's bang around" without my first playing a quick and meaningful game of "squat-hop-in-the-asparagus-patch" with ol' Mr. Bidet.

The heat and humidity were literally appalling. My poor, dear muff...she still hasn't fully recovered.

So, thanks for the wonderfully verdant shooting location...and I take off my hat -- and my drenched granny panties -- to all you Floridians out there who are far heartier than I.

Now, please excuse me whilst I spritz some chilled Jean Nate onto my undercarriage...and execute a graceful grand plie over the gottdamned fan.