However, lunch takeout is so delightful... (I'm going Mexican to wind down the work week, if you even care.) In spite of the skyline resembling a snapshot of Hades outside my office window, the pressure systems have to be working voodoo over the Eastern seaboard. My brother's practically buried alive over in Colorado with the pummeling the Midwest has taken, yet the thermostat is flirting with 70° here in the city. Can't remember the last time I've needed to keep my desk fan on through November.

For the Angelenos on the Left Coast, seeing folks stroll around in 3" miniskirts and Ugg boots and little else is relatively normal this time of year. But not on December first in New York! Here we are, ready to barrel into the heart of my favorite season full throttle and I've gotta contend with a tasteful way to peel off layers short of sitting in my cube half naked. Needless to say, I'm not pleased. Will the assholes who think global warming is junk science and basically spit on the impending clusterfuck of Antartica slip sliding into Dorney Park please go kill themselves?

Al Gore, please keep those frequent flyer miles handy to continue spreading the word. They ain't trying to hear you.