“Haha Nah It’s Not That Hot,” Says Australian In London Who Is Clearly Dying

ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact

An Australian expat in London has today insisted he is completely fine despite exhibiting all the classic signs of advanced heatstroke while slowly cooking to death on a patch of brown grass near the Thames.

Tommo Kiernan, a 33-year-old Brisbanish man now living in Fulham, spent the morning confidently explaining to a group of pale natives that 32 isn’t even warm. As he visibly soaked through with sweat, trembling slightly, and attempting to dry his lower back using a warm can of Stella.

“Haha, mate this is nothing. It was 49 back home last summer and I still went to work,” he told our reporter.

“This is just a bit muggy. We all know how much Poms hate a bit of humidity [laughs] That’s why you only find them in Sydney and that cunt of a place Melbourne down south!”

The group, gathered in Wandsworth Park ahead of an afternoon of corporate tickets at Wimbledon, grew increasingly concerned as Tommo’s skin turned the colour of freshly smacked bum and he began muttering about “how cool the pubs back home used to be.”

Unlike in Australia, escape from heat in London is largely theoretical. No homes or public buildings have air-conditioning. The public transport becomes the world’s dirtiest sauna. The only real option for cooling down is to get in a body of water.

Despite being clearly unwell, Tommo continued to deny any discomfort.

“It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity,” he said.

“It’ll get ya!”

A fellow ex-pat, a New Zealander, heard him say that.

“Haha aren’t you a Queenslander, bro? What’s wrong with ya? I’m from Otago, bro. I’m fine.”

More to come.