I’m as wobbed out in the heat as a stoner hippy’s conception of normality beaten to death by wave after wave after wave of self-inflicted idleness.
Worse still, it’s been going on for a fortnight.
What I needed last weekend was a paddling pool but what I got instead was a second ascent to Kinder Scout in Derbyshire in under 3 months, complete with sub-Hades heat — and a plague of plying ants.
As my Walkin’ & Sufferin’ diary faithfully records:
“Verily did those tiny monsters nibble at arms, at face, at willy.”
Great scope for photos in that weirdsy place, however.
So come share with me the pixel-crazy fruits of my weekend of ant-induced agony, just as if I had descended on your home, your private place, armed with a vanload of photograph albums, handcuffs — and a shotgun.
The 1st M.A.C.A. is here.