I know other parts of the country might be experiencing slightly hotter temperatures than Los Angeles, but seriously, anything over 100 degrees is murderous, in my book. It’s like comparing death from 75 stab wounds to one resulting from a mere 55.

But the heat wouldn’t be so bad if our city weren’t FRIGGIN’ ON FIRE. And I’m not trying to be metaphorical here, folks. You can see the smoke rising from the hills along the Hollywood freeway.

It didn’t actually dawn on me the other day why my allergies have turned me into a blurry-eyed, Zombie-faced mess until I stepped outside and saw my car covered in a thin layer of ash.

But have no fear, Los Angeles, I’m not bailing on you just yet. Despite that fact that your overly dry sense of humor and fiery temperament have created some disastrous results, I’m not evacuating just yet. At least, not until I absolutely have to.