F*** off, how hot is it?!?!

It’s probably the one sentence I’ve uttered to myself, and to anyone who is in earshot that’s willing to listen to my constant complaints, at least 100 times over the past week.

Like Carl Barron says, for some reason, Australia seems to be the only country in the world where you can get away with starting a sentence with f*** off!

I don’t know why? Maybe it’s because we are all a little bit bogan deep down inside.

But I will say it again… F*** OFF, HOW HOT IS IT?!?!

I don’t know about you guys, but in this household, we are all struggling big time with this heat. Like seriously… I know Summer is just around the corner, but can you kindly just f*** off with this heat?

Let me at this point say, that I hate Summer. HATE IT! With a passion. But it’s not so much the heat that I don’t like. It’s the humidity.

Humidity is like that one friend that nobody likes and everybody wishes that they’d just piss off and leave, but never bloody do. It’s like that clingy boyfriend or girlfriend that just follows you everywhere. I bet Summer hates humidity. I bet Summer wants to punch humidity in its stupid f***ing face! But it can’t can it. Because Summer and humidity aren’t physical beings.

And in Queensland, the humidity is bad. It’s always bad. And that, is why I bloody hate summer!

I am a winter kid through and through. I love winter. I love wearing warm clothes and wearing jackets when I go outside. I like sitting by a heater or by a fire to warm my fingers and toes up. I like sliding under the doona when I go to bed and pulling it right up under my chin, getting nice and snug and warm for the night.

Then Queensland Summer comes along. Ah… good ol’ Summer. F*** YOU!!!

Summer. Where having a cold shower after you’ve gotten all hot and sweaty is a complete waste of time, because as soon as you step out the shower, you need another shower because you’re all hot and sweaty again.

When all you want to do is rock around in shorts, thongs and a singlet everywhere you go but can’t, because you’re a responsible adult and responsible adults need to wear pants and long sleeve shirts to work. So you drown yourself in deodorant and aftershave before you leave the house only to end up with sweat stains as big as swimming pools under your arms 5 minutes into your commute to work.

Where going to bed is like torture, because you’re house was built before they put air-conditioning in each bedroom. So you turn on the pedestal fan only to have it blow hot air directly into your face as you lay in bed sticking to the sheets trying to get to sleep in what feels like Satan’s very own bedroom.

And for some reason, Summer hasn’t even started yet. But this year, God went ‘F*** it, they won’t mind a little heat and humidity earlier this year!’ Get stuffed mate, I don’t know who you were thinking of, but I’m pretty sure I speak on behalf of most people when I say CAN YOU PLEASE GET RID OF THIS HEAT!!

I’m sweating so much that I think I’m losing more fluids than I am able to intake. I’m pretty sure our dog thinks he’s been sent directly to the bowels of hell. The wife is sick and is struggling with the heat. Jesse is also sick and is now getting heat rash because the weather decided to throw up the middle finger to everyone in Queensland. And everyone in this house is a little cranky.

The only saving grace we have is the forecast of afternoon storms which promise to cool it down, but doesn’t really do anything but cause us the inconvenience of not being able to drive anywhere for the 20 minutes that it decides to rain or hail.

So screw you heat. Please, and I say this with love, can you just bugger off!!!

Also, I still think Summer should punch humidity in its ugly face!