Dear Phoenix Heat,

Please fuck off. Please go fuck the sun you spawn of the devil. I know you clearly made this your second stop from your origin of Hell, and while we are typically a hospitable city, your golden ass is no longer welcome. Patched peeling is not my version of a nice tan you fuck tard, nor is skin cancer my ultimate aim in life. So if you could not make me feel like an In-N-Out potato piece in your fucking frying pan of life, I would greatly appreciate it.

Sincerely,

Phoenician

Ps: the 20 minute drive home should not yield me a blood-red burnt shoulder you asshole. I look like I wore a single-strap prom dress to the fuckin beach.