Nipples, Winter, and Migrants. Jan 15th 2024.

I

have to say it isn't often I get to talk about my nipples at the best of times. Or even the worst, for that matter. So today is a rare, if not, one-off occasion.

However, it's January, and as per usual at this time of year, both get to feel as if they are somewhere between fridge-freezer and cryogenic temperature that's somewhat painful, to say the least. The time has long since passed when I used to rely on weather forecasts and outdoor thermometers to inform me as to how cold it is outside of my four walls as no more than thirty seconds in the fresh air and my beloved nips do that for me. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that long after my demise and all that's left of me is a pile of bones, my nips will probably awaken from their cryogenic state and go on to lead a life of their own.

Now, on the off chance that you're wondering where the hell I'm going with this, to be honest, I have absolutely no idea yet myself. Except the moral of this sorry tale being that I would strongly advise against having metal piercing anywhere about your person and that I'm now so bloody glad I had the good sense to not go for the Prince Albert after all. Anyway, seeing it is now January and temperatures are reaching somewhere towards sub-zero in this part of England, and a raucous ha-ha to those where it plummets even further I might as well continue to talk about the weather because that's what we Brits love to do.

You see, when it's hot it's invariably too hot, and when it's cold it's too cold, and we'll never be satisfied unless, by chance, we're flying off to burn ourselves somewhere else on the planet where no matter how hot it is, well, that's absolutely fine, and skin cancer doesn't enter into any conversation while the booze is flowing and there's a pool nearby. As for me, well, knowing as I do the effect cold weather has on my nips you can understand why I don't relish the thought of them being soldered by means of molten steel either, and I flatly refuse to walk around with nipple pads looking like a lactating mother; even though my man boobs are growing quite nicely nowadays, thank you very much.

By all accounts, the experts are now telling us that this will be the coldest winter since The Big Freeze, as it came to be known, began on Boxing Day 1962 with heavy snowfall and went on for nearly three months. Drifts reached up to 20 feet in places and the whole of the country was caught in its icy grip. Off the coast of Kent, the sea froze for up to a mile from shore as temperatures reached record lows. So, potentially bad news for migrants then. Looks like they'll have to forget the boats and invest in snowshoes instead. Mind you, on the positive side, at least they won't have to worry about drowning.

#john langley blog#john langley author#john langley bristol writer#john langley tumblr#snow#weather#migrants#bristol#kent coast#nipple piercings#body piercing