As The Temperatures In The Northern Hemisphere Are On The Rise, I’d Just Like To Say:

As the temperatures in the northern hemisphere are on the rise, I’d just like to say:

Please stop making fun of British people for “not being able to take the heat”.

Summer temperatures these past few years have been unprecedented, and this country is not equipped to deal with it. 2018 was England’s hottest summer in history with temperatures reaching almost 40C in places. The next few summers are all predicted to be bad too.

In case you’re not aware, we don’t have air conditioning, we don’t have ceiling fans, our houses aren’t built to keep us cool, we’re not used to temperatures like these because it shouldn’t be this hot (thank you climate change!). I work in the NHS and I can tell you people literally get sick during heatwaves. It’s not a laughing matter. I also say all this as an Indian person who knows what heat is, and can deal fine with 30C temperatures in Mumbai but completely melt when it goes over 25C in London, because here in Britain it’s a completely different feel whether you’re accustomed to heat or not.

So yeah, this year please think twice before making those posts laughing at “haha look at those British people who suffer in temperatures that are normal where I live!” because surprise surprise, it’s not funny, it’s an actual real problem.

More Posts from Thesquirreloverlord and Others

thesquirreloverlord

6 years ago

The reason my sister got caught swearing by our mother

Watching top 100 musicals and everyone who voted is a coward, HOW DARE Little shop of horrors only reach 21, and why the FUCK did phantom of the opera beat it.

I’m absolutely VEXED, Audrey II deserves better, direct me to the bitches who voted so I can fuckin beat them. Little shop barely got a 5 minute slot,, I’m LIVID, aaaaa

Racing Pigeon

Chase felt the wind batter his face and he zipped through the woods. He knew he was ahead in the race, wings beating quickly, tucking in to get through spots that where to tight for others racers through giving a head up during races. He was from a family of racing pigeon and wore his dad’s green race suit which fit him like a glove, a small skull embroidered on it.

He caught his wing on a branch and a grey father fell off his wing and a curse brushed his lips, this was a world wide known race, he was still shocked he made it this far. The wind whistled in his ears as he continued to swerve through the trees, heart hammering in his chest.

He didn’t expect what happened next.

A branch fell onto him. A big heavy mass of wood fell on him, a world class racer. He let out a yelp and felt a wing crack when the branch hit him causing him to plummet and pinning him to the floor, pain shooting through is body like hot, white fire. He took a few ragged breaths and tried to move. He couldn’t.

His breathing became faster as he started to worry, he could not seem to be able to get enough air in his lungs. His eyes watered and lungs stung. He wriggled and squirmed but was unable to move as each twitch of the muscles in his back sent waves of pain across his body. What if he couldn’t fly again? How would his family react, How would his Dad react? A Brody unable to fly, it would be a disgrace!

Something wet rolled down his face as he tried to hold himself still, still unable to breath his vision was going as fuzzy as his thoughts, black spots popping up. He couldn’t hear the surroundings, it was as if he was underwater, everything seemed so quite, so, distant. Breaths short and sharp and felt cold and painful, his head pounded. A sob escaped his throat at some point. He was alone, who would find him here? Was he going to die? He didn’t want to die. Thoughts swirled, he was scared, so bloody scared.

Then he noticed some movement. It was’t an animal, too big, well he hoped it wasn’t an animal because he couldn’t think of anything that big that was nice. It was dressed in a red t-shirt and dark beige shorts. He looked confused as if he had just walked upon him and a small determined frown appeared on his face

“Hey, I’m gonna try and move this branch, you think you can move?”

Chase nodded quickly, the sooner was off the better. The man came closer and chase noticed his short trimmed beard and mustache, His wings where neatly tucked and a woody brown, lighter on the underside. The man put two hands under the branch.

“Okay, 1, 2 ,3, GO!” The man lifted and Chase wiggled from underneath as the man dropped it on the dirt, both of them panting “Hey... I’m Jackie” the man- Jackie said.

“I’m chase, thanks” His voice was hoarse and weak with exhaustion and pain. His wing was bent awkwardly as the line of black feathers was no longer solid or straight. Jackie reached into a leather messenger bag slung over his shoulder and took out a water bottle and passed it to him.

“What you doing out here? I normally never see anyone when I go berry picking” Jackie asked as Chase took long swigs of water.

“I was racing, taking a shortcut” He said between sips. “Guess I missed the time to get to the checkpoint” he let out a weak laugh, Jackie just frowned. “What are you anyway?”

“A robin, why?” the other man had stood up

“Wait, a robin, how did you lift that branch?” Chase eyes widened. The other man just shrugged.

Finally Chase stood up, ignored the pain that shot down his back and looked round. All he could see was trees for miles but he had a sense of the direction he needed to go, he was a pigeon after all. The other man looked at him. “Want to get outta here?”

“Yeah” Chase replied, he had enough of forests today.