It’s hot. That’s no great revelation I know, but the fact remains that it’s hotter than Brad Pitt’s jockstrap; which I’m assured by reliable sources is very warm indeed. It’s enough to make your tomatoes wilt.
I’ve been adopting some ingenious cooling strategies in a quest to fend off the temperature. The first is wearing socks straight from the freezer. Put them in the night before, and pop them on in the morning and you’ll be nicely chilled for about twenty eight seconds. The downside is soggy toes.
The next technique involves some electrical plumbing, being as you need to wire the fridge into your microwave. Instant ice.
Ice cream is out of the question, what with all the shops having sold out, but you can make use of their excellent freezers. Just wander into your local Spar and clamber into one of the chiller cabinets. When you’re challenged about your inappropriate white goods violation, point out that they’re wasting electricity on keeping an empty box cold.
Replace your testicles with ice cubes and your piss will freeze. The downside is a soggy sack.
Another trick is something that I myself cannot do. It involves coming to my house, feeding me ice lollies, then asking me how hot I am. The subsequent rush of chilled air from the apathetic sigh should be a welcome relief.