How hot is too hot?

I, personally, think it's too hot when you find yourself wishing that you had applied anti-perspirant to your scrotum...

It's been a couple of days of torturing heat here in Edinburgh, which if we're being honest, is a city more known for horizontal rain that can give you facial burns if you don't keep your eyes firmly rooted to the ground. The temperature has been in the high 70's and the humidity has been higher than Keith Richards on his birthday.

Today, however, there was a respite from the heat in the shape of a thunder and lightning storm that cleared the air and dumped a few tons of water onto Edinburgh and the surrounding area. This was a double edged sword for me. I relished the ability to breathe again without it feeling like I was inhaling air through a wet sock but hated the fact that I was going to have to venture out into the storm while wearing nothing more than a Hawaiian shirt, jeans and a pair of trainers.

I'd crashed out on Saturday night/Sunday morning at roughly 5AM and was woken up four hours later by Steff who I'd told to give me a call to get me out of my pit in time to watch the British round of the MotoGP championship. Even at this time of the day the temperature was high enough to make the first word out of my mouth be a curseword.

"Fuck." I said, throwing off my duvet to get rid of some of the temperature that my body had produced in the four hours I'd been in my bed. I reached out to the bedside shelf and got a hold of my pack of cigarettes. I lit one, got out of bed and toddled into the livingroom of my apartment.

As I hit play on my media player Have you ever seen the rain? by the Ramones began and I reached out and grabbed my packet of Rizla papers to roll my first joint of the day. I rolled my joint, lit it with the dog end of my cigarette and wandered through to the bathroom to have a shower. I switched the shower on and stepped into the water.

The water wasn't doing much good cooling me down so I turned it to it's lowest temperature setting. This didn't help much so I reached over and pulled the power cord to stop the water being heated in any way. The cold water straight from the tank in the attic was freezing but it felt great so I let it run.

I stood in the cool water for about ten minutes and then got out and toweled myself dry. I walked into the livingroom and pulled on a pair of jeans. As there was music playing I had a small silly minute and danced around the livingroom singing along with the music.

I grabbed my bag and stuffed my work t-shirt into it, pulled on my Hawaiian shirt a pair of socks and my trainers and left the house. Fifteen minutes later I was at Steffs and I was rolling another joint. The 250cc class was about to start so all talk ceased and my eyes didn't budge from the screen until the end of the race. Then the MotoGP bikes lined up on the grid and I watched the race with even more conviction than I had the 250cc race.

After the race had finished I asked Steff to hit the magic button on his remote that allows you to watch TV from the previous week. He knew what it was that I wanted to watch and within a minute the familiar theme tune of Dr Who was playing.

As I watched The Dr and Rose getting themselves into all kinds of mayhem The Grand Whazoo decided to show he has a flair for the dramatic by timing the first clap of thunder to coincide with the moment that the Cybermen are discovered in the Torchwood facility.

As Dr Who finished the heavens opened. Rain like I haven't seen in years bounced off the pavement and turned the streets into rivers. Steff laughed and reminded me that I had to go out into the rain and would get soaked on my way to work. "A wee bit rain never killed anyone." I said.

I grabbed my bag, said goodbye to Steff, Wendy and Spodge (Zoe) and began the two mile walk to my work. I walked a couple of hundred yards and was soaked to the skin. I could feel water running down my back and into the crack of my arse like I was back standing in the shower in my bathroom.

Then I rounded the corner and saw the mother of all puddles. I kid you not when I say it was fifty feet long and about thirty feet wide. The pavements at the roadside were invisible for all but about sixteen inches of the length of the puddle and I thought to myself; "You can hardly get any wetter than you already are." And on I plodded.

As I reached the middle of the puddle the water was just below my knees and I cursed aloud while I walked. Twenty minutes later I reached my work and I immediately set about shedding my soaked shirt, saturated socks and squelching shoes.

It's now an hour and a half after my shift finished and my trainers are hanging off the handle of my livingroom door in an attempt to dry them out.