Heat Wave

Wahlan-eh. If balls could ever melt, they would today. Or at the very least, boil.

33º farking Celsius, with everything else factored it, a whooping 38º C (okay, okay, before you guys back there start giving me a hard time, I admit I've been too aclimatized to the temperature here).
Heat waves here kill, and that's a fact. Most vulnerable are elderly people and younger idiots too stupid to stay out of the sun who go biking without water.
It's true; I couldn't make it beyond 4 km today (usually do more than 20 km) and had to struggle to get back home. Coming in to the house, my fingers were numb and I was seeing black spots. I was also retching. I had to lay down with my feet on the couch for a few minutes because I was presyncopal.

Farking crazy when you consider that it was -23º C last November (drops to well below -30 in February).
Maybe being in north America for 8 years has done things to me. But I almost prefer the cold than the heat. You could always layer your clothes and wear longjohns to keep your eggs nice and incubated, but when it's hot, there is only so much clothes you can remove that is socially acceptable. And even if you're just home, 2 guys living together walking around butt naked gets the neighbours talking. Especially when one of them drives a sporty car with suggestive number plates.

Kinda reminds me of the joke about not picking up the bar of soap you drop... (there might be kids here so I shall not elaborate)

True, summer is barbeque season, and hot weather makes for skimpily clad joggers by the lake and bikini-babes at the pool, but heck, there is only so much pleasure your eyes can derive from these before you start losing your vision from the heatstroke.

On a day like this, if I could pick between wild animal sex with 5 Carmen Electras and a nice bowl of cendol with pulut, I'd pick the cendol. It's a no brainer.