Jesus wept it is too fucking hot. As a former work colleague of mine used to say, "I'm sweating like a paedo in a creche". The one good thing about summertime is ladies wearing less clothes in public, and that becomes a moot point when it's so hot that when I try to leave the house all the moisture in my body immediately jets off my head in a plume of superheated steam. Apparently today is the hottest day EVVOR (in rainy England obv) and from tomorrow on it should get colder again, however the humidity is going to go up. Brilliant! I look forward to many delightful days of sitting in trains with broken air-con feeling my shirt slowly meld itself to my back through the medium of sweat.

Speaking of public transport I feel like whingeing about it AGAIN. Well, a pre-whinge really, my previous journey up north was surrisingly free of fuck ups (apart from an hour delay one way, but that's not much these days). I'm dreading this Friday though when I have to get on the MEGABUS for 8 and a half hours to reach Preston for Glenn's Indietron night. I imagine in this kind of heat it's going to be maybe the Most Fun Bustrip of All Time. Maybe I could cut up a load of those cooler bags and then stitch them back together into a sort of sleeping bag shape and climb inside it for the whole journey.

I think aside from the horrible icky sweatiness the main thing I don't like about all this heat is the Giant Fucking Insects. Insects should not be big enough for me to be able to see their face as they fly past. That's the sort of thing you expect in the Colonies, not in dear old Blighty. Unlike some I've never been bothered by spiders or moths or wasps, possibly an immunity built up from a childhood living in the sort of old country houses that have more creatures crawling in the walls than an HP Lovecraft story, but I don't like all the fucking weirdo ones like dragonflies and centipedes and weird big beetles that waddle about and then suddenly start flying. I do not approve of these things banging around against my lampshade like Friday night townies outside a club. Who the fuck wants to live in a country inhabited by mosquitoes and hornets? If this carries on I may have to move to Iceland (the country, I suspect Iceland the shop is crawling with the things).

Anyway it's my birthday party in a month's time and I'm hoping that things will be less horrid but still kind of warm by then, as it'd be nice to hang out in the garden during the evening. There's even talk of some people camping there for the night rather than trying to grab a sparebed or sofa indoors. I may start hassling people soon to give me definite answers on whether they're coming or not actually, I could do with knowing a fairly accurate number at least a week or two in advance so I can work out who's going where. Also I need to build some sort of cage around my bed so that WJ doesn't sneak off and steal it at some point in the evening. My actual birthday's on the 15th, which is a Tuesday. Dunno what I'll do, it's not like I've got any sort of social life going on down here. I guess I may end up going for a meal with my parents or something. Or maybe just watch the Brick DVD and then play some Oblivion. W00T for 2006!

It's been a bit of an odd year so far, for me at least. For a lot of other people I know it seems to have been one of settling down and finding a routine (with a few notable exceptions of course) whereas I'm bouncing about like a morose gummi bear. Maybe the next six months will involve me finding more of a steady pace to my life again and connecting with stuff down here. I guess I've got to get used to the fact that I'm probably spending the "rest of my life" (ie about as far into the future as I'm able to look, so a year or so) in Oxford. Well, Oxfordshire. I can't see me being able to actually live in the city any time soon, despite my keenness to escape the Ultimate Nerd Cliche that is "man in late 20s living with parents". At least my room isn't in the basement.

General skintness has stopped me getting much involved in 2006 outside social stuff really. I've hardly seen any movies or read any new books. Of course I've still listened to new music thanks to the wonders of (terrorism-funding) piracy but there's not been a lot that's got me particularly excited so far. The Lovely Feathers, CFTPA and Sunset Rubdown are probably the only albums so far that I'd give an unreservedly enthusiastic two-thumbs-up to. In fact the first half of the year seems to have been largely marked by new boring albums by bands whose previous records I loved - The Walkmen, Shearwater, Dresden Dolls, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, The Sleepy Jackson, Regina Spektor (to name just some of them)... It's like some terrifying Bland Virus is sweeping the indie rock world. Mind you I suppose this is all relative, they're still better than the horrid pap that's been trickling out of London via NME's arse the last year or two.

Today's mp3 is a bit of a comedy entry I'm afraid. It's the ever-lovely Spinto Band on Radio 1 earlier this year covering a classic tune by none other than Seal. Hoo-ha!

The Spinto Band - Kiss From A Rose