Feeling hot hot ouch...!

It's March. A few days ago I was battling against winds strong enough to floor James Corden. It's been so wet, even the ducks were thinking "fuck this, let's go find a dry spot". Yet, today - this day in March - I have been nursing what can only be described as "beetroot syndrome". I mean I know it was a sunny day but I distinctly remember somebody saying to me that the sun isn't strong at this time of year. When I remember who said it I'll be beating them to death. In fact no, I won't. I'll tie them to a sun lounger and leave them outside for half a day.

The thing I hate about Summer, aside from the wasps and children on their holidays (not the wasps on holiday I mean, the children. I don't know where wasps go for holidays), is that all the ugly people come out in the tiniest amount of clothing they can find. Girls with arses bigger than the lilo's they float on, blokes with beer bellies so big even Chris Moyles would stand back and say "jesus, that's just rank". Wrinkly old men with ass cheeks hanging down to their ankles, standing on the beach in their pants; hands on (artificial) hips, pretending not to be staring at the big-arsed girls on their lilo's. And B.O! Jesus fucking Christ! Here's a piece of advice to people prone to bouts of sweating; CARRY SOME FUCKING DEODRANT!

British weather is mostly so unpredictable from one day to the next that at the slightest hint of sun rays poking through those black clouds, the British people of this country grab their trunks, sunglasses and coconut oil as fast as they can and stock up on BBQ meat. I was only talking to a guy yesterday who admitted the first BBQ he had this year was on January 9th. You gotta admire his determination.

Flies in your ice-cream. You know what I mean. Those little bastards just lurrrrrve the taste of your ice-cream. Candy floss is the worse though, and don't ever eat it along the seafront; last year I was picking floss outta my hair for days. That shit don't taste so good after a couple of hair washes.

I guess I have to admire our British strength and determination, but most of all...our hope. It's March and the sun is shining, so fuck it; get yer flesh out. But make the most of it, looks like rain tomorrow.......