We're still a couple of weeks away from the actual start of summer, but it's hot now. Like record hot. Melting hot. Just freakin' hot.

Luckily I've been able to hide during the day. Shut out the light (and some of the heat), pop that swamp cooler on and...it's okay. Not great, but okay.

My horse did not come in at the Belmont yesterday. Not that I put money on it. Or looked at the charts. Or evaluated the jockey. But I was in a musical state of mind, so I picked the horse with music in its name.

It didn't come in last, but it was never close.

On these hot days I kinda feel like that. I'm not last, but I ain't close to winning anything.

It's just June and the political campaigns are already boiling in New Mexico. I don't want to hear about this for five months. There couldn't be enough mud out there to sling for almost half a year...is there? We certainly haven't been getting enough rain around here lately to make the mud. Are they hoarding the mud? Like a little patty they get moist with their garden hose every day?

We have to stop this mud hoarding by our political aspirants! Five years in jail or 50,000 miles. Whichever comes first!

Take the summer off, blowhards. We'll see you after Labor Day.

Soccer fever is rising. Next Saturday we're all gonna go to our favorite bar and act like hooligans for players most of us don't even know the names of. It's okay, I'm generally clueless about most players names in most sports. I know the big ones, but this is soccer. I have no idea. But I understand beer and how to play the game. And, certainly, I know what's supposed to happen when someone scores.

We all get up and piss on the opponents' table, right? Was I misinformed?

Oil still gushes, even though they might be actually kinda maybe getting around to start to fix the problem.

I understand. May was a humdinger. And then everyone had to take off for Memorial Day (even though, y'know, it's a British company...do they get American holidays off?). Hungover, they realized another day of rest might help get their heads together. But, really, they're gonna fix this one way or another...or maybe another. Certainly by the end of the year. Pretty sure on that. And it's not all bad, right?

That was a pretty cool picture of the pelican drowning in oily water, right? Who's with me? Slap my black tar ball-covered hand.

And there are still a lot of people out of work. How will companies sell all their crap if so many people are still out of work and can't spend paychecks on crap they don't need? This is America, people!

Excuse me. Sorry about that. I'm just a bit delirious. I'd blame others, but I'm already at the bottom of the pit that leads up to the first rung of the ladder. Shit flows downhill, and that's what I'm standing in. I can only blame myself for wearing these extremely porous canvas shoes.

I'm thinking I'm going to start cooking food on the bricks in my back area. A fried egg here, frozen pizza there. Maybe slow cook some summer stew. Certainly I can boil up some tea.

But you should totally see my tan. I'm absolutely golden.

Matt Worley is only slightly hyperbolic.