THE sun is continuing to shine, leaving weary Britons with no choice but to go outside and perform sunshine-related activities. What will you do?
Helen Archer, chiropractor: “Set light to a disposable foil tray in my own f**king garden and burn meat on it while honking drunk. Meat half-incinerated, half so raw it could kill a dog.”
Mary Fisher, retail worker: “You can’t beat the British seaside, can you? Well you can, or the whole country wouldn’t holiday abroad, but still.”
Oliver O’Connor, roofer: “My local has a lovely beer garden. Well, not so much a garden as cordoned-off area of car park by a busy main road but I’m getting pissed, not looking at bees.”
Nikki Hollis, digital archivist: “My boyfriend and I are cycling out to the country with a picnic in a wicker basket. Ginger beer, cucumber sandwiches, scones, Pimms. Then I’m going to ride that dick al fresco like an Olympic showjumper.”
Steve Malley, osteopath: “Any sunshine activity is stereotypically British if you get horrifically sunburnt doing it. And I don’t plan to let my nation down.”
