I was looking through my blog today and realised there was a long neglected section named CLOTHES. It seems that when I first started this blog I had some ridiculous idea that I was going to give you blokes who read this fashion advice?! I have now come to the realisation that I can barely dress myself so have decided to replace the misguided if not well meaning CLOTHES section with a different section based around something I feel I’m much more qualified to write about and much more experienced in, complaining. I’m going to try and be a bit funny while I do it and all because otherwise it would just be a section of me writing down things that piss me off and that’s what a diary is for and only girls have a diary and I aint a girl ok? Good, so what’s pissed me off recently…
As that old lady that works behind the counter in the newsagents that you go to to buy some milk and a Ginsters (which is surprisingly frequently, where does all that milk actually go? It’s one of life's great mysteries) would say ‘It’s a bit close isn’t it?’ Now I’m not the biggest fan of 1940’s terminology although there are some crackers, take for example when my Nan couldn’t hear something my Grandad said and he came out with the brilliant and inspired “You’re as deaf as a kipper!” However the phrase close is pretty much dead on. It feels like wherever you are whether that’s walking around the local scrapyard looking for spare wing mirrors or lying on the living room floor (as I currently am, heat rises, I ain’t stupid) it feels like there’s a layer of warmth resting on you. What the hell is that about?! It’s not actually sunny, in fact it looks like at any minute it may be liable to start tipping it down. So really what we have here is a scenario where you get the unpleasantness of a slightly too sunny day without any of the benefits i.e. hardly dressed women, spending hours in the beer garden, a spot of fishing, watching the local feral children stealing hub caps and many, many more.
If those men in white coats and glasses are to be believed this is only going to get worse because apparently someone turned the earths thermostat up really high and then broke the knob off. As the planet warms summers are going to become increasingly ‘close’ in the UK as are winters. So theoretically, one day in the future, every day will be spent with you sweating your tits off despite the fact it’s cloudy outside and haven’t actually seen the sun for a few weeks. Not only will you be slouched on the sofa in a vest with a fan trained on your slightly red and sweaty face in the middle of August you will also be doing the same with a mince pie and some mulled wine in your hand. Possible solutions include: move as far north as possible, introduce a siesta like system of cool down times during the hottest parts of the day (the UK economy is fucked already anyway, a couple of extra hours off can’t do that much harm), live underground where it’s cooler or if all else fails sacrifices to the sun gods wouldn’t go amiss.