Fuck my saggy balls has it been raining a lot. Seriously. I daren’t go outside for fear I’ll be drowned.

Didn’t you see the news? Millions perished in this one village alone. Swept to their watery deaths, they were. Had they even survived, their cars were all trashed so they’d probably have had to kill themselves anyway.

I’ll admit, I wasn’t looking forward to covering London 2012. The only sport I play is golf, and prior to last month I’d never been beyond Zone 2 on the tube. But it’s actually not so bad out in the East End.

The Olympic venues are nice and spacious, with lots of spare seats for me to put my feet up on. It’s easy to get around in a car by driving in the special Olympic lanes for just £130 a time. And this morning I was rung up by my mate Boris Johnson who said he wanted to give me 250 all-access tickets as a “thank you” for getting him re-elected.

Because I have lived in London ever since I became rich, I am well placed to report on the London 2012 Olympic Games this summer. I did also cover Beijing 2008, and what an inspirational event that was.

So in anticipation of such fun and frivolity making its way to these shores from 27th July, I have decided to visit East London for the first time in my life, to take part in some sporting activities. What with the government promoting ‘sport for all’ and throwing billions at these Games, I’m sure I can find plenty of publicly accessible open green spaces in and around the Olympic Park in Stratford to get my sweat on.

There’s a dark cloud hanging over this city, and it’s threatening to rain on the people of London for four years straight. We must unite against this threat, we must stick together in these tough times and fight that which would strike us down and besmirch us.

And to what form does this threat manifest itself? Why, it’s Kenneth Robert Livingstone, I presume.

I was on a flight back from Switzerland last week when the clouds parted just long enough for me to catch a glimpse of the beautiful Hoo Peninsula in the Thames Estuary. It was so stunning, and so well-connected to the capital, I only wished there had been a nice big stretch of tarmac there for our pilot to land.

I tell you what, I’m so glad climate change has stopped and there isn’t going to be an apocalypse any more. Boy, did I celebrate this reprieve in style over Christmas.

First, I bought some shares in British Petroleum. Then, and get this right, I left my heating on max all day even though I was in Chipping Norton shooting pigeons.

I’m so glad winter has finally passed, I tell you, after losing £31.8billion in Las Vegas, the freezing downpours of the last few months took me to the brink of suicide.

But now spring has firmly announced its presence, I am looking forward to a long, hot summer. The kind of summer where you can fry eggs on the pavement and ‘accidentally’ poison your wife. Life is good.