Hot tea is unpleasant in the Miami heat, I think

 Regardless of my own opinions, I have to admit that this is clever political messaging:

 
My wife and I spotted it heading south on I-95 yesterday, right before the exit to Opa-Locka Boulevard. The phone number goes to a voice message saying, “Please leave any comments about the billboard after the tone.” The mailbox was full when we called. Some googling revealed reports that the number belongs to somebody called Robert Núñez, but that name is not particularly useful in most of America, let alone Florida.

Anyway, we found it amusing. Not as amusing as the Miami Heat player with his basically naked entourage of three women eating outside at Smith and Wollensky, or the dolphins cavorting in Government Cut, or the little black stray kitten that high-fived my wife (I am not exaggerating that last: she stuck out her palm to introduce herself and the kitten lifted up a paw, tapped her hand, and strutted off) or the children playing on the rocks (with the stray cats), but amusing nonetheless. Ah, Miami. Whenever I develop a good hate for the place, it does something weird enough to charm me back.

Off to a birthday party for a two-year old cousin. Hasta.