EVERYONE in Britain will today lie like a bastard about making the most of the sunny weather.

As the country baked in record breaking temperatures no-one will admit to finishing Sunday as a badly dehydrated, drunken catastrophe.

Martin Bishop, from Stevenage, said: “I’m going to say that I had a few friends over for some Provencal rosé and barbecued langoustines, but actually I opened a bottle of own-brand vodka, stripped naked and fell asleep on my neighbour’s garage roof.

“My penis looks like a mini saveloy. I wish I was an Eskimo.”

Stephen Malley, from Finsbury Park, said: “I’m going to say I took part in a really nice, chilled-out afternoon session in the beer garden of the Duke of Cumberland when in actual fact it was a thick, wet, heaving mess of bright-red borderline alcoholics who are not built to withstand temperatures above 14 degrees centigrade.

“I’ll claim that my girlfriend and I wandered home in the warm evening air and made love with the window open when in reality I think I may have glassed an old friend of my sister’s after she dripped sweat into my grappa.

“And yes, I may well have pissed myself, but I’d been wearing the same underpants for 72 hours so who the hell knows?”

Helen Archer, from Hatfield, said: “I am going to say that my attractive friends and I drove to the Norfolk coast in our Fiat 500s and then played rounders, drank cava and ate some ratatouille before singing Boo Radleys’ songs around a campfire.

“I actually made myself a big pot of melted cheese and watched six Harry Potter films on the trot with the curtain’s shut.

“I got this healthy, sun-kissed glow from thrusting my head into a basin full of hot Dettol.”