I am so grateful.
We the people of parched, wind-swept, cracking and downright fried Southern California, our moment has at last arrived. Pull out your greasy pots, your slow cookers, Julia’s beef bourguignon recipe, your best chain saw Texas chili powder, and don your fuzzy slippers because, hey baby, it’s time to get your rainy day groove on.
Hello, Barry White. Can’t get enough of your love, babe.
Oh it doesn’t take much to please me. As of this merry moment, and yes, thankfully Christm...