359: stuck to the surface

Ack urg sweat sweat, someone please make it rain. Any experts in the field of rain-dance or cloud-seeding, please get up, get in gear, and get on the job. Have you noticed how sweaty-heavy-hot it has been for the last few days. A storm is piling on the pressure but refusing to break and give us the release I crave. If it wasn't bad enough my place of work is already unbearably hot without this added inconvenience. I've no sweat left to sweat ; a sort of desert is gusting out of my pores forming little rippling dunes across my shoulders, forearms and big hairy eyebrows. So get dancing or seeding (dependant on your specialisation) and in return you can have some free advertising for your services. Danke.

If the clouds formed and burst right now I would de-clothe immediately and fly from my bedroom window into the cooling shower of rain ; absorbing through osmosis (can I have a semi-permeable membrane) all the liquid I can like a desicated slug brought back from salty death. Flying without wings leaping from drop to drop and.... wait.... I hear rain – seriously – is this it? I'm going to the window, I may be some time. No, I'm back. A light drizzle on the breeze sounding more than it was thanks to wind and leaves. Nothing to write a blog about. Just enough to show a faint dry outline of the under-car shelter spots (frequented by cats on the prowl), but not sufficient to create serious traffic/pedestrian-splash zones or de-ionize ("science") this fug.

How do you cope, you inhabitants of tropical climates "where men sweat twenty-four hours a day^HST", when I struggle so much with a bit of a bake? You drink rum and coke and water from mountain springs and coconuts. I drink a cup of tea and have chips and gravy from the Hong Kong Chippy. I'm a helpless idiot getting it all wrong ; decap my head and stick it in the freezer, and I'll do the same for you. Meet you by the frozen peas and the ice cubes ; pass me a chicken dinosaur to lick on. No not that one the other one ; sorry sir I'm delirious.

I'll keep the windows, and the freezer door, open and pray for rain, like it's the answer to all my troubles ; all my sweaty, sweaty troubles. Anyone coming out for a water fight ; aww that's not fair, your water pistol is better than mine, I want a Super Soaker Megarider B-52. Thanks for sticking with me throught this ordeal. Can you waft me with that newspaper. Cheers.