Diary of an up and coming sociopath

Living in London exposes you to things that, back in Warwickshire and Oxford, I wasn’t privy to. People wearing sacks, for instance. Black snot. A general yet piercing hatred for the stranger you pass in the street and have no further contact with.

However, the experience most unique to London? Being slowly cooked alive underground. This is my second summer in the capital, and once again, as the weather heats up, so do the trains, like it’s the dark ages or something. You will remember that last July and August were mostly Tube-free, due to the exploding they were doing, so this is going to be my first proper long-term experience of using the tube during the hottest weeks of the year. I can’t say I’m looking forward to it.

It’s inconceivable to me that someone, somewhere, has consistently failed to find the necessary funding to cool these fucking death traps down. I’m trying not to be a typical Londoner whining about what, for all its failings, is possibly the most convenient public transport in the country, but jesus christ, if you had to use it you’d soon understand. By the time I reach work I’m already exhausted. I stay late at work even when I have no specific reason to, just because it means there are less people in the carriages. I pity the poor bastards who have to use the Northern line in this weather.

I’m not sure I really have a point beyond “fuck me, it’s hot down there” but I think that’s probably enough. It’s negatively affecting my lifestyle.

For Josh’s birthday I bought him We3. I tried to buy it for myself off Amazon, and they were out of bloody stock for 2 weeks. I bought Scott Pilgrim #1 and East Coast Rising instead. I have also delayed my comics review to do the second opinion review of the latest Dr. Who episode (Seb did the main one) which I watched this week because it’s the first part of the finale, and which, as it turns out, was fucking excellent.