I am lazy.

The weathercave is cold in the winter and hot in the summer with extremely poor plumbing. On the bright side, it’s stationary. All I ask for is a home without wheels.

So, while the weathercave has remained the same, the weatherneighbors have not. With all the class and elegance, it’s like living in a debutante ball. Recently, I got to associate a face with a slurred voice, when one of my new neighbors stumbled to my door at 11 p.m. to introduce himself.

Neighbor: “Dude, could you smoke me out?”

Me: “Go away.”

Wednesday’s Forecast: Occasional outbreaks of desperation followed by clogged toliet.