When the rain comes…

“…and reportedly said “….if he does that again, cut his balls off”. Otherwise, Her Majesty thoroughly enjoyed the garden party…and now, although I hesitate to ask…Tim, what’s the weather like today?”

“Well, Samantha, it might surprise you to know that there is no weather today…merely climate. We’ve decided to stop calling it weather due to the unremitting monotony of everyday wall to wall sunshine. And the name for the climate is ‘hot’, but we might occasionally add ‘and dry’… a bit like a sand blasted goat in a wadi without its hat. Steel workers, naked to the waist, standing at the furnace doors feel less heat.

Sometimes, I just stare up into the sky blinking at the yellow ball of sun, and think to myself what it must be like to stand at a bus stop in Rotherham, while the grey slate of a sky delivers rain at a rate of 3 litres of water per square inch; my wellies fill to the brim and overflow into a gutter filled with an oily road soaked stream as crisp packets and a used condom float down to eventually pop up in the North Sea; looking down into my sodden open bag of chips as the number 94 is nowhere to be seen; my trousers so soaked that my white underpants are now see through and clinging damply to every contour of my sagging buttocks and up the crack of my arse; the cold freezing into every orifice it can find, regardless of its protective hair or malleable bodily product designed to keep out dust, flies or fingers; listening to the passing traffic and children jumping in puddles and daft old George who insists on saying “turned out nice again” before being told to fuck off by the vicar; watching Mrs Ramsbottom struggle and waddling down the street in her pacamac with her three heavy Asda carrier bags which you know has only one item of any nutritional value besides the gin, fags and this weeks copy of ‘Hello!’, perhaps you’ll remind her to change out of her slippers the next time she nips out. Oh to feel the cold trickle of rain running down your neck making you shudder, a bit like you did with Valerie of the sixth form after she assisted with your first wank behind the changing rooms at the school playing field. Oh happy days.

“…it’s going to be hot again Tim? Thank you…and finally…..there was rioting in the streets of Kabul today as the Taliban took over the city….only to be told that as heaven had run out of virgins, they’d have to use cold ox liver as a reward should they become martyrs. As a result enthusiasm for the fight waned as the news spread.

Published by Lance Goodman

Freelance writer, bon vivant and all-round good oeuf.

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