Yes, it’s hot, that’s true, I’ll give you that one; but it isn’t too hot. In fact, it’s only too hot when you’re at work or doing something you don’t want to be doing, like sitting in your car behind a fucking caravan as it takes its sweet time going wherever the fuck it is that people with caravans go. Somewhere awful I imagine; Margate or some other shithole.
Anyway, I can assure you that were you to be sat at home, in the garden, with a beer and a book, then the weather would be precisely knob-on. Now shut up whining and make the most of the five days a year when it doesn’t rain like buggery in this godforsaken country or I’ll choke you with your own limbs.
