Humidity is the most evil of all weather conditions and here's why.

There’s nothing worse than humidity. Not minus-20 degree snow storms. Piece of cake – I was born in one. Not beating rain, not 40 degree heatwaves with hot wind melting your skin like a full-blast hairdryer in the face.

Nope, humidity is pure evil. When the clouds roll out on a summer day, I know we are entering Satan’s kingdom.

First, you sweat. You sweat bloody constantly. The tiniest exertion results in a sheen of full body moisture. If you do anything other than lie extremely still in front of a blasting Kmart fan, you will sweat. Changing channels on the TV? Breaking into a sweat. Bringing a cup of water to your dehydrated lips like an ailing Donald Trump? Sweat.

No matter how much you drink, you will be parched anyway. The water will just keep leaking out of  your pores. You put it in, it comes back out. You are a human fountain.

You cannot cool down – literally. The air is too wet to wick away sweat, interrupting the body’s cooling process. You are sweating for NO REASON. It’s useless sweat. Useless, stinky sweat. Your fan is also useless. It’s just blowing heavy, wet air around.

Now add having to take public transport to that mix. You cram into a tin-can full of stinky humans hanging off overhead rails with their armpits in your face. Baubles of thick perspiration drip off the ends of their noses onto their shirts, and yours.

The air is thick and mucousy. You cannot breathe. You pray your stop comes soon. Frankly, you pray the end comes soon.

Then there's your hair and make up. Did you want to look nice today? Hahaha! Sure. It's 70 percent humidity out.  Your hair will stick in limp tendrils to the side of your face. Your foundation will be eroded by streams of salt water running down your temples. Your lipstick will be washed away by the beads of sweat rolling down your lip.

Even the lipstick itself sweats, droplets building in it's fancy bullet. And your mascara? Oh how I laugh.

What else is there? The damp puddles you leave on everything your bum comes into contact with. That chafe of your lubricated thighs rolling against one another. The fact that no amount of deodorant will save you from smelling like a musty swamp.  The sheer exhaustion.

Listen:  A simple guide to not feeling bad about your body at the beach. Post continues below. 

And it can strike any time. Winter, summer, autumn, spring. It's relentless. It cannot be tamed. Humidity ruins everything.

The sweat never stops. Condensation licks at windowpanes. The pages of your books curl. Children weep. The whole world wanes.

Hell isn't fire and brimstone, cinders and flames. It's a 38 degree day with 75 percent humidity that just never ends.