Jesus Shitting Christ. Be careful what you wish for.
Since the last time I blogged (which is, I'm very ashamed to say, nearly a week and a half ago), the summer has arrived, and my god, it's arrived with a capital FUCK ME IT'S HOT. As I type, at 10.40pm at NIGHT for Jesus's shining sake, I'm still sweating with the sheer HEAT of the whole thing.
I cannot bear it.
I take it all back.
Please, could someone switch back on the winter?
I'm never happy.
Today, in the same vein as "if you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen", we decided that since we couldn't stand the heat, we'd get out of the heat. We did this by following He Who Only...'s absolutely genius idea of having a picnic down the local park.
Unfortunately, most of North London had the same idea:
That is a photograph of some of the 20,000 other people who were struck with exactly the same brilliant idea. Triumphantly, though, we had our pick of the peachy places to sit in the park, since both of us have such lilly-white, transparent celtic skin that if we sat in the direct sun for more than a mere moment, we'd end up with third degree burns. So we plonked our lovely arctic coloured asses under a tree near to the turtle lake and got down to the serious business of picnic-ing.
The essential ingredients for the making of the picnic, according to the Gospel of He Who Only...
1. Bare feet: Feet must always be bare from the moment the picnic commences. This indicates that you are not merely outside, you are also relaxing outside, and intend to be relaxing outside more than just momentarily. No socks allowed.
2. Wine (or the alcoholic alternative of your choice): Here, we went for a lovely pinky coloured wine, purely because when we reached into the fridge in the off licence on the way to the park, we assumed that everything in there was white. We were wrong, but the wine itself was a delight.
3. A small radio burbling commentary to some kind of international sporting event: Today we listened to Holland v Serbia-Montenegro and then Iran v Mexico. A more suitable picnic sporting burble would of course be a cricket match of some sort, it being a sport more suitable to the radio medium, but beggars and choosers can never be one and the same.
4. Newspapers by the hundred: So that you can spend the duration of the time soaking up current events by flicking through the paper for up to two minutes once every hour, and by the end of the day feel like you've done something useful along with just lying about.
5. Also important: A blanket to cover in dead ants and grass cuttings; chocolate; crisps; some kind of frisby or football or tennis-ball based throwing and catching game; some books to intend to read and ignore; some sunglasses; and a MASSIVE interest in people watching.
My advice to the entire world, or at least that part of the world currently suffering through Summer, is to find yourself a good tree, sit underneath it, drink wine and watch the world pass by. It's the only way to cope.