Richmond, it's too fucking hot, mate.

Yeah, I hate it.

It's, I don't care who you.

And when I see people going on about, oh, it's lovely and, oh, yeah, you lot moaned when it's raining and that.

And I've said it before, I've said it before on this podcast.

I don't moan when it rains. Same. It's, it's gift from the bloody heavens as far as I'm concerned. Um, it's awful.

I don't understand people who are like, yeah, I like my clothes clinging to me. I like to feel

sweaty and clammy and uncomfortable. I love that. Yeah. That's brilliant.

Yeah.

And because, you know, if you're reading a book and you buy the beach and life's like a bloody postcard, fair enough.

But what have you got for me when you're just sitting in the living room and you're just, you're sitting still and you're sweating?

Yeah, exactly.

That can't be romanticised, can it? I had two fans on me today, and I've had to turn them off to record this, and already

I'm instantly sweaty and funny and uncomfortable and angry.

And I just, I want it to go away.

I hate this weather.

I hate the summer months.

I despise them.

And by extension, I hate anyone who likes the summer months. You're all stupid.

You're all silly, silly people. I wish we could just have a permanent, I don't know, April, a permanent white, white skies with a slow wind, classic London, just all year out.

And then every now and again, a massive rainstorm.

And that had sought me right out.

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