Next February I will not be in Boston. I will not be putting on fourteen layers of polartec, followed by sixteen layers of down, big furry boots and a hat that makes me look like I have a bigger nose than I actually have. I will not be cold. I will not be slipping on ice. Noooooo. I will be sipping on ice. Because I will be in the Caribbean somewhere a fruity cocktail with an umbrella stirrer in one hand and a trashy magazine in another hand and I will be baring my less than bikini beautiful body to the sun.
I will be. i promise. Just watch.
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