Look at James. Sweating dirty funk like a massive raw sex robot.
Thats how much we are sweating at the airconless Negrete office. But we aren't sweating un-granulated soul like Browny, we are sweating San Miguel and Ice Creams.
We longed for this weather. We let off aerosols constantly for 24 hours everyday for months. However now its here, we've changed our minds. Its too hot. Its boring. Only London's layer of poisonous smog is stopping us getting skin cancer.
We want the autumn. Or some sort of breeze. Or a holiday.
Yes a holiday. Thats the ticket. Its not right to work in this weather. Put down your tools my brothers and sisters, crack on the junior fishnet speedo's and throw off the shackles of work. Who needs money anyway, when you're eyes are bleeding from the heat.
You know it makes sense. Unlike this blog.
One Love
The Negrete Flames
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