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2024: how does it compare to the shite British summers of the past?

LOW, grey skies and constant pissing rain, but can 2024 really compare to the f**king awful summers of England’s drenched past? We compare: 

2024, the summer of suffering

Morale-boosting events like England in the Euros final and Liz Truss losing her seat have barely raised a glimmer of cheer against a background of cold, damp weather and jeans taking four days to dry. Alcohol abuse is no longer proving effective. To add insult to injury, Glastonbury was dry.

2007, the summer of Umbrella

The wettest summer since records began caused flooding across the country, and who was number one throughout? Some chick from Barbados dancing around singing about umbrellas. No doubt Rihanna had to have the concept explained to her beforehand.

1988, the Second Summer of Love

So named because enterprising Britain went on holiday to Ibiza and came back with a handful of pills that, incredibly, made you not give a shit about it pissing down. An E and house music in a disused warehouse with rain hammering on the roof and you were happy. Thatcher’s government immediately moved to stamp out this unlicensed joy.

1960, the summer of ‘bollocks to this’ 

A winter of rain and a deluge in summer acted like a bucket of cold water to post-war Britain’s face. The Beatles formed, Lady Chatterley’s Lover was allowed to keep the dirty bits and the whole country decided there must be more to life than catching drips in a bucket in your slum. All thanks to shitty weather.

1936, the summer of abdication

Constant horizontal rain covered the death of George V, the ascension of Edward VIII, his decision to marry a hot American divorcee and his subsequent abdication. Meanwhile, over in Europe, Hitler. Did miserable weather conditions delay Britain re-arming and cost millions of lives? Yes. Who can be bothered to start a war in thick drizzle?

1912, the summer of misery

Britain began the year with Captain Scott being beaten to the North Pole and ended it discovering his body. In between the Titanic sank, the monster of the Conservative and Unionist Party was formed, and it rained more than it has ever rained since. Our national character was formed here, and it is unfailingly morose.

Magic: The Gathering vs Warhammer vs LARPers: Which nerds are bullying which?

IN A crowded field of shameful dork hobbies, there is still a top dog. Dr Helen Archer details the subtle hierarchy which makes one nerd feel superior to another: 

Magic: The Gathering players bully Warhammer players

Card game Magic: The Gathering was released in 1993 while anyone halfway cool was growing Kurt Cobain hair or gurning in a warehouse. Its socially inadequate teenagers use it to interact without making eye contact.

Nonetheless, Magic players are required to have an income to buy cards, which means a job, which means leaving the house. Their chronic eye conditions are from masturbation, not painting Necrons. One participant said: “Compared to Warhammer cultists, we’re jocks. One guy in my last tournament even wore deodorant.’

Warhammer players bully LARPers

Warhammer 40k is a war game played with hand-painted figurines, like chess with spiked shoulderpads. Players assemble an army, glue it together, paint it, inkwash it, drybrush it, and do it all in their childhood bedroom because it costs too much to afford to move out.

When they’re not being shoved at board game cafes by hunky Magic: The Gathering players, Warhammer freaks hurl abuse at LARPers, otherwise known as Live Role-Players, otherwise known ‘men who dress as wizards’ and ‘avoid that house.’

LARPers bully other LARPers

Dressing up as an elven paladin to run around the woods pretending to fight with swords and cast spells? Congratulations. You are at the bottom of the bullying barrel.

Battle re-enactors for battles that never even happened, these born victims need outfits, a total lack of shame, and enabler parents willing to drive them to magical woodlands that double as dogging sites.

The only respite a LARPer can receive from being shit on by Warhammer players, who spit on their capes and stamp on their wooden swords, is to mock other LARPers who are ancient mages with Dudley accents.

Olly O’Connor, a 14th level bard and proud of it, said “You see that guy playing the alchemist? I pushed him over and kicked his cauldron into a ditch. F**king dork.”

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