The thing about us Brits is that we fucking love to complain about our shitty summers and how we never get a decent amount of sunshine. It's what we do. We moan when it is too cold, we moan when it rains, we moan when it snows, and now everybody is moaning because it is too hot. At first everybody loved it, but now they're all covered in sun burn and sweat and are plagued by hay fever and sun stroke the novelty has worn off. We're never fucking satisfied.
I would like to point out at this stage that I have been consistently bitching and complaining about the heat since day one. A fan of hot weather I am not. At all. There is nothing I find worse than feeling sweaty and sticky and uncomfortable in my own skin. Urgh. That is why my favourite season is winter. Give me a coat and scarf and gloves and MY MOTHERFUCKIN' GREEN HAT any day of the week. Parting with my hat was the most difficult thing to do in the world ever. I pretty much wore it right up to the point where I'd be drenched in sweat whenever I took it off. Sexy, I know. I still carry it around in my bag with me where ever I go, you know, just in the hope that the relentless heat will cease to be a thing.
Yeah, I'm far too into my hat.
The one good thing to come out of all this hot ass weather has been plenty of barbecues. This past Sunday myself and a bunch of friends hung out in a park, had some barbecue, drank some booze and played some rounders. Yes, I partook in physical activity! It was probably the first time I have ran in like three years. I know this because it is now Tuesday (Well, it is passed midnight so technically it is now Wednesday, but whatevs) and my legs have only just stopped aching. I am so unfit and I don't even care. Somebody hand me another cigarette!
|I am so white trash.|