When celsius marks peak against disbelief, there really is no other alternative than ground-sprawling and offering yourself to the sun gods. A bit of a mythological exaggeration, but the lack of effective methods of avoiding becoming human roast are making this whole thing seem highly plausible. Someone is bound my pleas to hear up there. Until then, oddly heat resistant Levi's have turned into the second skin I was so keen on growing. I'll just call it sartorial mutation. I won't say it's corny if you don't.