I've been rated. Hot rated that is. Little Black Book rated. Cat called walking by the construction zone rated. Honked at by a passing car while on a run rated. But not by a reliable source like this:
But by the internet. And two of our local landfills. And the proposed quarry site. And possibly the government. (Seriously. I can't make up things like being objectified by methane producing garbage and the IRS.)
The other night, I was just minding my own business narcissistically searching for myself on Google, when, there it was, my Hot Score: 6.2
I didn't really get the point of a website giving out hot ratings based on municipal dumping grounds, but, 6.2! Really?!?!? Obviously they haven't seen me walking around town sporting my ring watch, because I've seen one on every single sexy person I've fist bumped this summer! And, I'm sure they haven't seen me dressed in my sexy Halloween costume:
Come on! I'm totally the hottest domino in the county! About to run a race. Really early in the morning. On Halloween.
So what does that make me, Hot Duck?
Yeeaahh, that's right!
So, internet, flatulating landfills, proposed rock diggers and the government of these United States of America, get it together, because the Hot Duck never lies.
Break it down for us Hot Duck!
You had to have seen that coming!