heat – soft cell

This heat’s killing me. I’m just not designed for it. I’m permanently floored, like a hangover with neither beginning nor end. Each day, I exceed my brain’s maximum operating temperature and each night, I’m wiped out. I have no energy, all I want to do is blob out.
If I wasn’t working just now, I wouldn’t even open my curtains. And I certainly wouldn’t be going over the door before the sun dropped.
A year ago, I was working full-time AND writing a novel. Now, it’s all I can do to work and sleep. Where the fuck has all my energy gone?
Last weekend, I visited a couple of friends who live a few miles away. First time I’ve seen them this year (they hadn’t even seen my hearing aids).
Like scottish people the world over, we discussed the weather in its entirety. (A) There’s too much of it, (B) it shouldn’t be this hot this time of year and (C) it wasn’t like this last year/when I was a kid.
By the next morning, we were in full agreement. This fucking weather’s all wrong and should be somewhere else and what’s bloody nigel fromage going to do about it, eh?


Why not read the novel that started it all? 1919 (inside)


A love story – on home-made acid – narrated by someone first used romatically, then set on fire, by the blue peter team, capering around the pyre like wrinkled vikings.


6 thoughts on “heat – soft cell

  1. What are you moaning about. This weather over and above our last year’s sporting events from dressage to cycling (not that I expect you to appreciate or know these sports – we have so much to be happy about) is just the BEST. You miserable bastards should be put somewhere on your own with a bucket of razor blades – do yourselves in and the rest of us a favour. Otherwise turn that leetle frown upside down and give us your best happy face. Otherwise the rest of us happy people will leave you miserables to be eaten by your own unhappiness. This weather has been the best thing for a long time. And apparently it’s going to be a pattern. I, for one, can’t wait.
    Sent from my BlackBerry smartphone from Virgin Media


    1. “The best thing for a long time”? Nah, I just canny work up the enthusiasm for feeling hot, sticky and lethargic for several months while I’m expected to still function as well as I do in the proper weather.
      It’s as if the human brain has a maximum operating frequency and by exceding it, all we’re fit for is staring at facebook all day.


  2. So, apparently it’s hot in Scotland? Blimey, ne’er a better time for a kilt! Get a nice draft going, know what I’m saying?

    Of course, if you’re living in Scotland, I don’t really have sympathy for you, try living in Phoenix, Arizona in the summer, and see what that does to your jibbly bits.


    1. Sir, I doff my cap to you. Arizona? Euch, that’s dry heat – which would dessicate my respitory tract and generally make my asthma ‘n’ allergies worse.
      Scotland’s heat is more of a creeping moist expreience, a wee bit like being buried alive under a mountain of wet newspaper.


      1. that’s… that’s quite the image. Well I’ve been in Scotland in the summer, and I can tell you, I’d take it any day to Arizona in the summer. Pretty much anything beats 50 degrees celsius.

        Except, you know. The SUN.


      2. Aye, it’s normally survivable here, but this summer’s been ridiculously hot. Combine that with the through-the-roof pollen count and it’s a recipe for disaster.
        (Plus, with the rise of centre-to-far-right politics in this country at present, I’ve been attempting to parody that by objecting to the ‘european’ weather.



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