It's sunny - very sunny - in London. As a result, all the women are lying about on the grass with their shirts and pants pulled up, exposing expanses of white flesh, and the men have gone full crazy and have started ripping their shirts off.
Who knew the sun would make the Londoners crazy?
I must be assimilating a little, as I went for a walk along the Thames yesterday and there was a light breeze, the seagulls were calling, the sun was on my back, and I felt that if I had had my togs I would have jumped into the river without a moments hesistation.
(And then regretted it horribly once the sewage flowed into my mouth and eyes and I bumped my knee on a grounded shopping trolley (There are about 14 of those in the stretch of Thames mud by our house)...)
So instead I thought about doing a little dance, a bit of a boy in Taika Waititi's 'Boy' type of dance, but then I thought I'd better not as I didn't want to get my arse kicked by angry Londoners - of which, there are many.
So I haven't given myself over totally to London madness, but it seems the rest of the city has. We're heading for another scorcher today (17 degrees! In March!) so I'll try and keep myself under control.
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