What's so bad about summertime in St. Louis? Sure, the heat hits you like a wet wool rug every time you set foot outside and you nearly keel over from heat prostration while waiting for your car's crappy air conditioner to crank up. But what are you, some kind of weenie? You live in St. Louis, dammit! You're made of sterner stuff: You come from strong, hoosier stock. No self-respecting St. Louisan would consider leaving town during the month of August. When it comes to summer hardiness, it's August -- the month when you're sure summer's never, ever going to end
-- that separates the wheat from the chaff, the cream from the milk, the corn from the cob. On second thought, go ahead, climb into your dweeby Mini Cooper and get out of town, you feeble little dork. Yeah, we're talking to you. You're probably one of those whiners who object to the fact that this place is now known as "the Lou," because the term offends your delicate sensibilities. Move to Canada, already. We don't need you here.