tea and wordsearches

a splendid way to spend an afternoon when there's nothing else to do in this miserable country is a cup of tea and a crappy wordsearch from lidl. Nothing makes me feel more ripe and British than a damp purple book, smelling of the festering reduced bins, filled with letters and dented lines from a found word, and a half cold cup of bitter tea. All while watching the same stream of rain that has been consistently glazing my window for the past 3 hours. In the background is a deafening ring of Peirs Morgan's voice, which i wish for nothing more than to stop, and the sharpest of sirens circling the block. I assume it's the same 3 half pubesant boys I saw earlier on the corner, dressed in grey tracksuits and holding a suspicious looking, bulbus clingfilm ball tinted slightly with green. Could life get anymore British???