Also, for our civilized metric-system-using readers: That’s 10° Celsius.

We’ve long debated why this occurs on an annual basis. Is it because K grew up largely in New Orleans while I spent my formative years in tumultuous central Ohio? Is it because our bloodlines come from different regions, mine being so far North in Europe, we forgot what melanin was? Or maybe it’s the fact that K’s chronically anemic, whereas my blood roars through my veins at a snail’s pace, so the whole “I’m freezing to death” memo takes a while to get to my brain.

The world may never know.

Until Winter hits, and then it’s:

K

K

and

Me

Me

Love and Kisses,

Stiffler

 

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