Mingin' In The Rain

Even if you live in a country that's full of drought and only sees rain once a year, I still can't understand how you might enjoy being outside when it happens. Its a general bafflement to me. I get confused hearing Ann Peebles singing how she 'can't stand the rain, 'gainst my window' when I'm fairly sure its better than the noise it makes as it hits her eye and the bottom of her jeans drag in puddles. Still I suppose its not as bad as Bitty McLean telling us 'when its raining its raining' which just feels like the most unneeded statement ever. Yes Bitty. And when its sunny its sunny and when you're a dick, you're a dick. There are a lot of other follow up songs that can be made along those lines. But back to the point in hand, I am not enjoying the rain today.

Its an odd thing that I own proper winter wear for seriously arctic conditions, shorts etc for the sunny times, regular wear that stops me from getting arrested for being naked in public and yet despite living in this stupid grey country for my entire life, I never seem to own appropriate wear for defending against rain. Oh yeah I've had a few jackets with hoods, all of which mean I can't see when crossing the road. I subsequently take the hood down, get soaked in the face while my hood fills up with water, ultimately doubling the drowned rat look twice as much as I would've done if I'd just danced in the rain without a jacket on at all. Brollies, I've been there and done that too. Rihanna can sing about them all she likes, but as long as there is wind, they are less a form of weather protection and more a violent way of ensuring people move out of your way or be spiked in the eye. Either that or a method of slowing yourself down as it acts as a tiny parachute and you stagger forward like a wronged human.

Much as I love 'Singin' In The Rain' I really can't ever appreciate the rain quite that much. Today has been a long trek around the West End with my mass getting every heavier as my clothes act like a sponge. I was tempted to wring my clothes out into the bath when I got back, add some suds and claim a medal as most environmentally friendly man in Muswell Hill. This would only be so I could then set fire to plastic in the garden whenever I liked to balance it out. Not that I ever really want to set fire to plastic in the garden but its nice to have a dream.

I think its probably as obvious to you now as it is to me that today's blog was going to be about something and then I got home from the rain, we're out of milk and I'm generally just sitting here grumbling with no tea. I feel like I'm being punished for something. Maybe its because of this:



Well maybe it is. But let me tell you, if hanging out in a onesi and eating skittles out a cocktail glass is wrong, then I don't ever want to be right. Unless I'm arguing with someone. Then I'd like to be right. I'm going to go away now and leave my keyboard alone. I think this technically counts as abuse.