It's twice this week that I've been caught in a rainstorm. And that's not including the one time I was caught in the pissing rain that just went on and on and on. The weather here is completely shitty. I was told that I deserved it. Apparently, anyone who comes to Northern England deserves this. Bleah!

Just yesterday, I cycled to Tesco supermarket that was an hour away. When I emerged from Tesco, my unbelieving eyes were treated to the sight of a Yorkshire rainstorm comparable to the quality of a tropical one. I waited 10 mins for it to stop. It sort of eased up a little but didn't stop. So I thought, "what the hell, I'm a tough guy" buttoned up my jacket and put on my hat and macho-ly cycled out into the diagonal rain. It was horrible. My poor glasses had sheets of water splashing down them and I wished I had installed windscreen wipers on them. And all the way I sang to myself, "I'm a tough guy, a tough guy. A macho macho tough guy" While secretly thinking, "MUMMYYYYYYYYY!!!!!! I WANT MY MUMMYYYYYYYY!!!!" Man! I couldn't help thinking that if my mummy had been there, she would have called a taxi straight away. Or better yet, called my father to come pick us up in the private "taxi".

And all the drivel about rain is due to the fact that, as usual, there is nothing more interesting than the weather to talk about.