Naked Heat: A Horror Story

Being from Texas, you would think that hot weather doesn't bother me. . . You would be wrong. My years of living in Utah have made me a pansy. I hate being hot, especially at home. So when our swamp cooler boke in the middle of July I was about ready to fill my bathtub with ice and slip into a hypothermic oblivion while blasting "Hace Calor" on the stereo (the Sesame Street version of course). But, before I could enact my arctic plan, my little brother came into town for volleyball camp. He of course wanted to stay at our house so I had to settle for an ice cold shower instead.

Here is where the horror story begins. After getting out of my frigidly refreshly shower, I noted how much cooler it was in my house without clothes on. Then, forgetting that my brother was outside getting his bags out of his jeep, I decided to sit on the couch and relish the moment of cool. . .

Upon re-enterin my house, at first my brother was like:

 

 

But then he was like:

 

And then he just went back outside, got in his jeep and was like:

 

 

Scarred for life. If you know my little brother PLEASE don't mention this blog post to him. It will only make his emotional trauma worse.