Being born British is often no bad thing. However, it often means you live in Britain and I believe it has the worst weather in the world … yesterday I wore, at different parts of the day a wooly hat, a rain mack, and shorts. But who gives a flying turd about that? Actually probably not even my own mother, so I won’t bother you about it … or the people at humor blogs.
The actual really, eye bleedingly wretched thing about living with so little sun is that when the sun does come out, so do all of the people who should be sent to a desserted island and be made to live on jam. I’ve never understood how fat men think it’s acceptable to sit in public with no t-shirt on? Women tend to look better in summer gear … men are just hair, flab and wind tied together with gaudy nylon …
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