Phew!

It's flippin hot in here. My cupboard up on t'concourse has been about 25C in the shade all week. GB lot have been turning up the AGA so if it wasn't for the lack of sand and German towels, you would have thought you were in Majorca. Which is the point I think.
Having said I am fair dessicated since with the heating turned up the already dry atmosphere turns into a horrible Sahara-like affair, Sheik-less you understand. And I have not had a moment to go down and pour me a nice cup of Roobosh.
Wiggly Braggins is looking well good as are all the team. Mind you if that Iain Dyer shouts "oop oop oop" once more, someone is going to get a smack I can tell you. Me head's done in wiv it.
Not that I don't want to see the boys and gurls GB win a shed load of medals - again.
I'll be glad when the lot of them have gone off to the beach or wherever they are going. Chiappa is already there I'm told. Majorca that is, not the beach. Just that I'm itching to open a window and let some of that nice cool fresh[ish] Manc. air in.