Euch!
Right, Wimbledon is, what, nine miles from here? So where's the rain? I remember going to the lesbian-fest that is the England Lawn tennis club or whatever they call themselves last year and it bloody pissed down. So where's our precocious precipitation. Word is that we're going to get it all tonight in about 17 seconds.
It's hot. It's gone beyond holiday hot, beyond the sort of heat normally experienced by BBC film crews while they loaf around Africa waiting for the rains to revive the parched earth. Frankly, we're into Tennessee Williams territory.
This personally suits me to a tee, as I am anyway a borderline alcoholic with so many personality disorders a diagnosis would look like the index in a medical directory. Days like this were designed for swanning about in a vest, drinking very very very alcoholic drinks with lots of ice in them and being angry and melancholic by turns. But Christ, don't people kick up a fuss if you do that in a meeting.
It's hot. It's gone beyond holiday hot, beyond the sort of heat normally experienced by BBC film crews while they loaf around Africa waiting for the rains to revive the parched earth. Frankly, we're into Tennessee Williams territory.
This personally suits me to a tee, as I am anyway a borderline alcoholic with so many personality disorders a diagnosis would look like the index in a medical directory. Days like this were designed for swanning about in a vest, drinking very very very alcoholic drinks with lots of ice in them and being angry and melancholic by turns. But Christ, don't people kick up a fuss if you do that in a meeting.
4 Comments:
Again, I would like to know your definition of hot.
Well, it’s 26 degrees C at the moment, that’s 79% F. This, however, is the met office measurement and so is measured in the shade, no doubt on the roof of the Met Office itself.
I keep meaning to build myself a weather station (my water butt means I am obsessed with rainfall now) but am being rather lazy about actually doing it.
Anyway, just as temperature is adjusted down for wind chill, so I think summer temperatures must be adjusted. Humidity makes it feel hotter than it is. So too does pollution. So does the smell of a distant barbeque. So does the sight of the public in flip flops. So does wearing clothes that are actually stuck to you. So does public transport. So does sitting on anything upholstered. So does a complete and utter lack of wind.
As a result, I have decided to abandon the conventional C and F measurements and have instead gone for hot, very hot, hot hot hot and Jesus Christ it’s hot. In the sunlight it was so hot yesterday that you could not have bear feet on pavement or you ended up twitching and hopping like somebody coming off medication at a disco dance-off, at night it was so hot that my main occupation was sweating. No kidding, the last time I sweat that much I concluded the experience by opening the pine door and running out into the snow.
do you not have a heat index where you live? it's quite common here, but more like 95F with a heat index of 102F..I'm only exaggerating a little. It was 95F all weekend...not sure about the heat index.
Will you be throwing another party for the big game on Sunday or do you care much about the french and the Italians?
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