My Southern Fling Has Turned Frigid and Tan Fat Looks Better Than White Fat

I moved to the South. Divorced my old life and jumped into bed with Southern life. Mainly so my core body temperature would never have to drop below 100 degrees. I was drawn in by the hotness south of the Mason Dixon. But today, when I took my temperature - it was at 8,421 degrees BELOW zero. I guess it is to be expected. The newness has worn off. The excitement of this fling is simmerin down. And I do believe, the south has betrayed me.

He drew me in with his grits and sweet tea -- with his monogrammed towels and slow talk. And now? Now he has become cold and bitter. A lone man of anger destined to make my life frigid and in despair. So I am givin him a dose of her own medicine. I am trickin him. Playin his little game. I put on a little flirty summer dress, did a little dance and turned the thermostat to 92 --

and took out my beach pictures. Makes him jealous every time.

Ha ha hoo hoo hee hee hee giggle giggle snort.

That'll show his little Jack Frost nippin at my nose.

Of course, IJ will also divorce me once the gas bill comes in

But you have to expect a few losses in a big operation like this.

Next week -- if these frigid Antarctic games of his continue --

I will be headed to the tanning bed. Without him. Naked.

Cause it is a scientifically proven fact that tan fat looks better than white fat.

Amen.