Talk of the weather? I forecast dull conversation

"Brrr, bit chilly today isn't it? Wish it was sunny."

You know who you are.

Weather obsessors. Climate pre-occupiers. Air fantastists. You're everywhere.

And the few of us who really couldn't give a shiny sun about what temperature it's going to be today, whether the rain might spit a tad or if it might be slightly foggy on the Welsh coast, have had enough.

Especially at this time of year.

After months of the right-minded among us yearning for a glimpse of the sun – that thing that puts a smile on everyone's face and makes the whole world seem a nicer place – people start moaning about it being too hot.

Make your mind up.

In this country it's deemed more than acceptable to have a rant, a moan, a mild tirade, about this subject.

That's because 'the weather' as a standalone entity has forever been judged to be exclusively British.

No, sorry I stand corrected, it's 'quintessentially' British.

Weather, remember, doesn't exist west of the Atlantic or east of the North Sea.

The atmosphere enthusiasts would have you believe that we've got it worse than anyone.

Inhumane temperatures of -30C in Russia? Well it's a bit nippy but they can handle it.

Blistering heat in Australia that'd fry an egg on someone's bald bonce? Just stick your head in a fridge for a minute.

But the UK, we've clearly got it worse than anyone. Some days it even drizzles.

Apparently this is the nation's favourite ice breaker.

Instead of work, football and holidays, talking about the weather – that thing which happens every day and, let's be honest, is the same year after year – is three times more popular than any other subject.

Apparently, more than anything, people don't like the fact it's unpredictable.

Which is guff, plain and simple. When it's gloriously warm, sunny and beautiful for days on end, Brits hate it.

If it rains and rains and rains, people moan until they can't moan anymore.

Now I like a good moan just as much as the next man. Give me a platform to rant about such as the horrifying state of the nation's tiny stairs, complicating the lives of those of us with above-average feet, and I'll take a day to vent my spleen.

But the weather? Do me a favour.

And your average Brit whinges, moans, complains and whines about the weather four times a day – for a total of eight minutes and 21 seconds.

That equates to – get this – four months of weather-based chuntering during a lifetime.

Four months.

Imagine what you could do with those four months in a weather moan-free existence.

Well, you could watch slapstick comedy adventure movie Kindergarten Cop around 1,300 times.

Arnold Schwarzenegger's hilariously original japes might get a bit tiresome after a while, but hey, at least you won't be complaining about that draft coming through the back door.

Or you could try and figure out just exactly what the world's fascination with Kim Kardashian is all about. Maybe take eight months for that one.

Or you could do something really useful and worthwhile, like take a four-month holiday in Australia.

No on second thoughts, you'd probably hate the weather . . .