44 degrees Celsius. Post-nasal drip, general irritation. Just told someone I love to fuck off. Brandy, two aspirins, and nowhere to hide.
Open a bottle of Durbanville Hills Sauvignon Blanc. 7 pm, 36 degrees. I think I have a fever. Everyone is sweating. Take of my clothes. Truly, the penis is the cause and solution to all of life’s problems. Pity mine looks all shriveled up. Must be the fever. Swim. Looks better now.
I will eat. Time to compensate. Time to affirm the fact that I’m still alive, although breathing becomes increasingly difficult. Wet towel, no apron, 1.8 kg filet of beef. Huge, bloody - is it dead? Cup of olive oil, worcestershire sauce, balsamic vinegar, salt, black pepper. Leave for a while. Vegetables in the oven. Table in the garden, candles.
8 pm, 32 degrees. I definitely have a fever - my hair stays wet. I’ll have mine rare tonight.
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