lactose intolerant

The sun has many advantages such as supporting life, creating shadows etc but it can also become tiresome after 4 long hours under it's oppressive glare.  I'm covered in barriers: cheap sun cream; sunglasses; rather fetching hat; clothes, but they tend to make me perspire even more.  It doesn't help that I'm delivering to several, shall we say 'shit', blocks of flats with no lifts and (understandably) sealed windows.  These asbestos filled boxes bake in the morning sun, concentrating heat and any lingering odours on their stairwells for me to discover.  One stairwell in particular was covered in a fruity yogurt last week so the strawberry overtures were particularly intense.  Today I was getting a hoary, putrid stench of rancid milk and overripe vomit.  There were bass notes of funky dog and stale old person but nothing too toxic.
You could see the air, like entering a baker's oven. I'd enter feeling OK, nicely cooled by the soft breezes wafting in from the sea.   Five minutes later, I exit a flustered, bewildered, sweat-streaked  mess.  Deeply nauseous, dizzy...gasping for air.  I know these poor bastards who live in these brick ovens would throw themselves, and their first born, out of the windows at the first opportunity, but at least  let them open a little.  Even scag-heads need oxygen. 

I think today was the hottest, most oppressive day so far.  Howard, an outspoken and deeply cynical colleague, got out of the van today with the words:
  " I resent every fucking step"
I think he's on holiday soon so he's obviously lost patience.   I don't know what he would say if it was pissing down.  ('Get my gun'?)  The bus stop opposite him had 'FTL' scrawled upon it, in large red letters.  Turns out all the bus stops in this area had  the same 'FTL' acronym sprayed all over them.  'Fuck The Law'?  'Free The Lions'?  'French Take Liberties'? 'Flowers taste lovely'??  Someone with a deeply ingrained hatred of this place, mobility, no respect of society,  and a big fuck off can of red paint obviously did this.  I reckon our driver...he could rhyme off every location and he HATES this place, with a passion that's inspiring. 
At least the flags have gone.  Almost.  Well, not at all really.  In four years they'll be relevant again so why bother?  A large inflatable England fan I almost fell over has deflated and is now wafting over the lawn like a runaway tent.  Misguided fake patriotism dictated by Asda.  Hell, they even had 'England' tape measures in B & Q yesterday and they weren't even fucking reduced!  I suppose if you reduce a tape measure it becomes intrinsically worthless.