A Note to the Reston Association From Some Vienna Residents

Dear Reston Association,

Most of us have lived here for a while.  We're familiar with the soupy, swampy season you call summer.  We are the animals of the .

Personally, as a bison, I've got it a bit tougher than most on account of my hairdo, but I'm one of the more rugged members of the bovine family, and I appreciate the fact that nobody has tried to shoot an arrow into my ample rump ever since I got to Vienna.  Most years I'm okay with my summer job and I like the neighborhood.

But I've got to be honest with you guys.  Today has been a little rough for me.  It's like the planet has decided to grill me in my own skin.  I'm not sure what a heat index is or what it means to be 110 degrees, but you need to get me and my posse to a cooler spot.

That camel chick used to be kind of pretty for a girl who spits, but her hump is getting all wilted and she keeps moping that it's not the heat but the humidity.  Homegirl will not shut up about how things are so much better in the Sahara.  Somebody needs to get that lady an Evian and a fan.

And you know those lowlife goats that haven't ever turned down a grubby fist of corn?  Well, all of a sudden all they want is cold water.  I have seen each and every one of those devil-looking loudmouths lick food from the hands of kindergarteners who don't even wash after using the potty and now they've got nothing on their minds but clear, cool agua?

Now, I don't expect these folks in the center-hall colonials next door to take us in.  God knows a family does not want to clean up llama and alpaca droppings in the basement home theater.  But maybe you could let us camp out somewhere else in Reston.

Don't you have a vacant supermarket at Tall Oaks that we could use?  Nobody will even know we were there, and those lemurs in the corner know enough math to help you guys calculate a fair market lease rate based on square footage.  

You have to do something for those ring-tailed fellas.  For the past six hours, they've just been moaning and singing, "Marmoset there'll be days like this.  There'll be days like this, marmoset."

Come on, guys, what's a guy gotta do to get a little compassion for a brother?  It is so hot out there that the pot-bellied pigs are starting to smell a little like bacon.  Put us in a school bus and let us soak a little in one of the pools.  It doesn't even have to be .

We'll pay the assessment.  We'll become members.  We'll paint our houses whatever color you tell us.

Just please get us somewhere cooler.