“ Rain in London is rarely dramatic; it's administrative. It falls with the quiet, persistent efficiency of a civil servant processing forms. It's the "drizzle": not heavy enough to justify full rainwear, but absolutely sufficient to make you look like you've been lightly cryogenically misted after a ten-minute walk. It doesn't soak you; it permeates you. Your glasses fog, your newspaper dampens at the edges, and a fine sheen covers every exposed surface. This is not weather for dancing in; it's weather for sighing resignedly, pulling your collar up, and accepting your fate as a slightly damp mammal. It's the atmospheric equivalent of a low-grade nuisance charge. See more at London's funniest URL -- Prat.UK. ”