It's the 4th of March and I'm staring at pouring rain and my feet are cold, joy. It might be nice if it stopped rainig about 6 when I put the rubbish bin out.
It's lovely. I love the drizzle and the mizzle and the puddles and the fact that though everything still looks like it's been blowtorched, at least it's now blowtorched and wet.
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But wait! I've lent just a few of my thirty-six degree days to autumn, just to let you know I'll still be there when you don't need me!
Yours sincerely,
Summer
Aaggggggggh.
Dammmmmmmmmmmmn you, Summer *she says, shaking her puny fist at the blazing orb*
On other topics - the Feral Beast is studying this
It's the 4th of March and I'm staring at pouring rain and my feet are cold, joy. It might be nice if it stopped rainig about 6 when I put the rubbish bin out.
It's lovely. I love the drizzle and the mizzle and the puddles and the fact that though everything still looks like it's been blowtorched, at least it's now blowtorched and wet.
Sounds like quite a beast, your beast, Jayne.
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