Weather is an interesting thing.
Well, ok, for most of the world it isn’t, but for those of us who live with a variable jet-stream above us that flaps and faffs about sometimes being north of us, sometimes being south of us, making the weather completely unpredictable, weather becomes a topic of conversation.
Despite the £33Million Pound super computer inside the Met Office telling us that April, May and June would be incredibly dry, it has been incredibly wet. Massive downpours have formed part of the storm systems we’ve had to endure since the lack of activity on the sun hasn’t pushed that damn jet-stream to our north.
Annoyingly, in a number of places, including London and Liverpool, as well as parts in-between, people have noticed the rain comes with a very fine sand. During periods of dryness, cars are covered in this sand as if they’ve just spent some time messing about over sand dunes.
Apparently this is sand sucked up by the weather system over the Sahara, and then carried aloft until it gets here and can then be dumped all over us. It’s nothing new, it happens from time to time. It’s perfectly natural.
And so when a courier was waiting and we were engaging in gentle pointless banter, I said something along the lines of, “Hey, I see you’ve got the dreaded sand all over your windscreen.”
Thinking I’d then fill the next two minutes with idle silence-filling chatter about the Sahara and our weather, I was cut dead with a, “Yeah mate. They want us to think it’s sand. I’ve got two words for you. Chem. Trails. Look it up on the internet. They think we don’t know. I know exactly what they’re up to. It’s about mind control mate, mind control. The bad weather’s brought down the chemicals before they had a chance to dissolve. I bet they’re well pissed off about that.”
So, there you have it. It’s not sand from the Sahara, it’s undissolved chemicals from the chemtrails. Good grief.
England's England 