Gosh, this weather's nice isn't it? Remember a few months ago when we thought it wasn’t ever going to stop raining ever? Well now look at us, practically living in Barbados. SO great.
Right?
Erm, yeah. One thing's for sure, we're totally not taking the typical British route and finding something to complain about in the unexpected fortune we’ve been blessed with. Absolutely nothing about this weather's annoying us at all, nope sireee. Except…
Spornosexuals
Definitely our new favourite term to describe our least favourite people. These guys are the beef-caked, fake-tanned muscly walls of hairless flesh who seem intent on using this weather as an excuse to show off their perfectly crafted bodies. While we appreciate this might be technicially attractive in a Greek adonis type of way (maybe??), brushing past these chaps on the street is nothing short of vom-inducing. Just imagine your cheek catching on one of their clammy pecs as you squeeze past them at the supermarket. Gross.
Our upper thighs
An issue that people remain suspiciously quiet about. Maybe because any mention of ‘sweaty upper thighs’ conjures up images of adverts for anti-chafing cream featuring large Americans wearing high-waisted khaki shorts. Wasn’t ever an issue when you were younger (and therefore lither) but spending more than twenty minutes walking around in a tight skirt now is enough to take you into serious chaffage territory. Pass the cotton pants please.
Park life
Spending the day in the park was once a much-lusted after activity, now the thought of waking up on a Saturday, opening your curtains and finding that it’s raining outside has turned into your secret sexual fantasy, even pipping that one about snogging Louis from One Direction on his tourbus (what?) to the post. You’ve literally spent every last sunny day in the park with your mates and you’ve run out of shorts without grass stains on, spent over £50 on disposable BBQs and if you’re honest you’ve started to question just how interesting your friends really are. Also, remember before it was hot when you were just a ‘social smoker’? Shame all your time is now spent 'socialising' outside. Hellloooo nicotine addiction.
Going _any_where
Is there any point even leaving the house to go anywhere other than a big cold bath of water (perhaps one of these new fangled ‘swimming pools’ we’ve heard so much about) when you’re going to be drowning in your own bodily fluids less than five minutes after stepping out your front door? Also, when it comes to make-up, your previously excellent ‘matte finish’ foundation? Pile of old wank in this weather. Your face looks like it was the inspiration for Paris Hilton’s infamous 2005 cinematic turn House of Wax.
All of the drinking
Once upon a time back in beautiful June, the thought of one lovely cider in a beer garden was nothing short of heaven. Now, six weeks on when your skin’s gone grey, you're addicted to smoking and you haven’t done a solid poo in weeks, the thought of heading to bed with a nice cup of peppermint tea doesn't only seem like a beautiful luxury, it's almost definitely a necessity.
Follow Jess on Twitter @jess_commons
This article originally appeared on The Debrief.