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Samuel Johnson once said, "It is commonly observed, that when two Englishmen meet, their first talk is of the weather; they are in haste to tell each other, what each must already know, that it is hot or cold, bright or cloudy, windy or calm."

I've never been uncomfortable with silences and am therefore not practiced with small talk, I dislike it and the smallest of all small talk in particular; the weather.

It becomes especially tiny during heatwaves or when it rains for more than five days in a row. The smaller the talk, the more irritating however. Thank fuck Michael Jackson has died so people have something else to chat about in queues; "Ooooh in't it sad, Thriller were the first album I ever bought, shame he went and slept wi' kids though weren't it?"

It's currently 5:30am in Vegas and already hotter there than it is ever likely to get during the peak of this "heatwave" we're experiencing. And while I accept it's hot enough for forgotten woolly cardigan wearing pensioners to perish and rot while sat in their living rooms, it's really not that hot is it now?

Certainly not as hot as when I served with her Majesty's forces in Afghanistan in 1840 - that was a previous incarnation of course - and certainly not as hot as the summer of 1992 when the heat was so oppressive at night that I had to sleep in my kitchen as it was the only room with a tolerable temperature. I couldn't stand the heat so I got into the kitchen! That's how I remember it, but I may have just been pissed and fallen down while making a sandwich.

What I'm getting at here people is that,..no, my concentrations gone, I've forgotten what my point was, something about the Speaker of the House of Commons I think. I need to lie down. I'll be back later, talk amongst yourselves, just not about the weather.