UniGirlUK

Dim the lights, nuke some Pop Secret, and prime yourself for the epic (and overdue) reunion of the S.T.A.R. Labs team. Parental discretion advised.

 The set-up: It had been lonely these past six months. Like, Titanic-soundtrack-on-repeat, lonely. Caitlin had buried herself in work at Mercury Labs, Barry was Lone Rangering it up, and I was stuck spending Friday nights at Zumba with my mom and her friends from the Historical Preservation Society (Mrs. Martinez, you got the moves like Jagger, girl!). So now that the band is officially back together (and better than ever!), it only seemed appropriate that we do a little celebrating. Or a lot of celebrating…

Cut to: A south side dive bar. Karaoke night. Anyone else think it’s totally unfair that Barry can run faster than the speed of light and has the voice of an angel? I was feeling all the feels and bawling like a baby when he belted out Neil Diamond - then again, I was on my third Blue Hawaiian, so my inhibitions were already more or less abandoned. It was Caitlin’s earsplitting rendition of “Wrecking Ball” that sobered me up enough to realize we needed to peace out before we were thrown out… 

We stopped at a Big Belly to fill up on greasy goodness before hitting the next joint, which ended up being a Hells Angels hotspot. Fun fact: big, beefy bikers don’t like it when you hop on their ride and begin reenacting the epic chase scene from The Matrix Reloaded. Oops. I was seconds away from being taco meat at the hands of a Marlon Brando-wannabe when my boy Barry stepped in and proposed a challenge: a drink off - he who is left standing gets to decide my fate. Check it: Mr. Brando sauntered up to the bar, thinking he’d demolish Barry after three shots. But little did he know about Barry’s secret weapon: a lightening-fast metabolism. He could chug the entire liquor cabinet of a well-endowed frat and feel nada. 

Eleven shots apiece later and the giant was felled! We booked it outta there (fully intact!) and took refuge in S.T.A.R. Labs, where Caitlin used some copper refrigerator tubing to make some nasty cortex cocktail that tasted like rocket fuel. And for future reference: the acoustics in the pipeline are dope. We cranked some tunes (Cisco Disco, baby!) and Zumba-ed the night away.

Is this thing on? 

Heyyy, Cisco here, comin’ at you live from my parents’ house. 

Good news first: I’m alive and no one is pressing charges –shout-out to my main man Joe over at CCPD for having my back! Bad news? I accidentally burned down my apartment. 

Let me catch you up. Ever since Dr. Wells - AKA Dr. Evil - told me I was affected by the particle accelerator explosion, I have been freaking out. Now I know Barry’s a hero, but most meta-humans are evil jerks who like to steal, maim and kill (see my earlier entries about the pipeline). I had to find out 1) if Dr. Wells was telling the truth and 2) what kind of powers I have (please please pleeease let me fly). So I decided to run some preliminary diagnostics on myself…in my apartment. 

Lemme tell ya, not having the state-of-the-art setup (and budget) I had going on at S.T.A.R. Labs makes experimenting on myself tricky,to say the least. My latest undertaking was to test my protoplasmic conductivity. The human body already absorbs and emits electricity, so by utilizing proprietary frequency-sequencing, I figured I could determine whether or not I had any enhanced electroreception capabilities. To test conductivity, I needed juice. LOTS of it. With the help of additional resistors, some amp breakers strung in parallel, and some Cisco finesse, I was able to MacGyver my humble abode into Central City’s smallest power station. Success! For a hot second. Did I mention that the landlord’s idea of throwback décor consists of fabric wallpaper and shag carpet? Put the two together and you’ve got an incendiary disaster. 

Now my apartment is gone (along with most of my eyebrows) and I’m back to living with the rents. It’s not too bad, I mean Mom is trying to make me eat healthier but it’s easier to coordinate viewings of our favorite show – Jane The Virgin. 

I am hella bummed about being no closer to discovering what my alleged meta-human capability is. So far, I’ve discovered that I ‘m not flame retardant, I can’t move objects across the room with my mind, and as far as I know, I have no ability whatsoever to communicate with sea creatures (womp womp). I can just see Dr. Wells smirking at me with those deceptively twinkly eyes. 

Oh crap! I hear Mom fumbling at the door. Probably balancing an armload of vegetables and sprouted whole grains. Time to duck out and make a beeline for the nearest Big Belly where the only veggie is deep-fried and dipped in ketchup. Holla! 

PLUTO 2015

the uk is a very mild, humid place

sweat does not evaporate well in humid heat; the uk has very, very humid heat

meaning british people cannot cool down efficiently

also british people are adapted for cooler temperatures

people are literally expected to die in the next couple of days because of the heat wave

the news has put out health warnings because people will literally die because of the heat