Dammit! It's not that hot out -- weather.com says 73 right now -- but I'm sweating like J. Lo in front of a minister.

HEY-O!

I've got two windows across from one another in the living room open for a cross breeze, but there isn't much of one. The kitchen feels great with the ceiling fan and one open window, though.

We've got the air conditioners in the windows in this room and the bedroom, but there's no need to resort to that just yet. Yeah, things are different when you've got to pay the electric bills. (Which, by the way, we haven't done in a month or so because they haven't sent one -- they told Casey the other day when she called that they've been overcharging us, so to make it up, they've stopped sending them. Our next one, apparently, will be like $3.)

A ceiling fan would kick ass in the living room, it would.

Funniest commercial of the NBA Finals: Don Nelson talking to the Dallas Mavericks in practice in the players' native languages -- German, Spanish, Canadian, etc.

Worst thing about procrastinating: My managing editor wanted to plan an office outing to a Yankee game, and two weeks ago he thought tonight would be a good night. Only he didn't get it organized in time (I'm still not sure if we have a date). Oh, it would've been sweet to be there, me a Mets fan who has to take it from my managing editor and all the other Yankee fans in the office, watching the Yankees get no-hit by the Houston Astros. (Read about it on ESPN.com or anywhere; I'll link it for yo' lazy asses in the morning.) First time since 1958, it was. Yep.

Dammit.