It’s like mescaline, I bet. Just like mescaline.

Saturday 22 July (2006)

What am I talking about?! More drugness? No. The fucking heat.

It’s so bloody hot I can’t even begin to describe it. I want them to go and fix the ozone layer right now. Hell, I’d be happy if someone would fix me a drink – tall glass of some Havana Club 7yo with a lot of ice! But no, that’s expensive isn’t it. What is it, about heat, that melts your mind? It’s relentless. And it’s too hot to do anything all day, so you just lie there in the garden wishing you had enough money to go and buy some rum (far too hot to work for that money – a classic catch-22) and then your parents come home from work and you go back inside and all of a sudden it’s 2.40 in the morning and you’re not tired because your brain is used to an inordinate amount of melatonin and can’t physically produce enough to make you turn off. Then the craziness – the just-out-of-sight hallucinations. Hearing insects behind the curtains. Is this kind of confusion what those poor bastards who were first trapped in the desert and ate the cacti felt? I imagine it is. A hot, horrible, sweaty trip with no end in sight.

Or, maybe it’s just summer. There is something terribly unrewarding about being in the sunshine and not having a drink in your hand whilst being next to, or even in, a body of water.


3 Responses to “It’s like mescaline, I bet. Just like mescaline.”

  1. I am so hot right now that I have physically melted into my chair.

  2. bgbennyboy Says:

    Some of us have to work in this heat you lazy students.

  3. stan Says:

    Hey man, last year I had to work in the heat too! In that little office which had the main fucking server for the Army Recruiting (North West) section pouring out fire constantly. Seriously it may as well have been a furnace! The little plastic feet on the bottom of things that were too complex for me to understand but had nice flashy LEDs on them melted. I’m not even joking.

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