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It's day 3 of Mother Nature's attempt to destroy the ungrateful human race; on Tuesday, the temperature in Central Park hit 95 degrees and yesterday it hit 97 degrees. The heat index — what it actually feels like — yesterday was around 107 degrees, and that's in the leafy green splendor of the park. Anyone who has had the misfortune of spending more than 2 minutes outside knows that the heat index on concrete is more like 500 degrees. And yet, despite all this torture, the temperature has yet to break the official Central Park record of 100 degrees in 1933.

Honestly, that's bullshit. If we're going to have our asses kicked by a ridiculous heat wave, it should at least count for something. We don't know what was so freaking special about 1933, but it sure as hell didn't involve the agony of Con Ed or cab drivers who keep the a/c off so as to simulate their native climate. No, we most certainly know pain more than anyone ever could back then.

So c'mon, gang, and let's refuse to settle for second best. Rally for 101 degrees in the park, and then we can all feel like we really accomplished something. We know it can be done, and we don't care who dies of heat stroke in the process. Sacrifice, people!