Year Zero: Day 17

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It’s the dynamic duo with Fandango as Batman and Ragtag as Robin, mixing it up like a mentalist, lets see what happens, this really should be a stream of consciousness, nothing is planned, in a not dissimilar way to our leaders’ actions.

I told you, society is collapsing in on itself, disappearing up its own arsehole, with little means of re-assimilating itself. This morning I woke up at 10, with gin headache, eyes stuck together, all gaspy and huffy as I hauled my arse out of the bed. But as every suffering drinker knows, a cup of tea solves everything, tea first, for me, 2 cups and then more depending on the severity of said gin issue. Today there is no gin, it’s clean and yummy but my god, suddenly it hits me. Today marks 17 days since year zero, which in my world is when the pubs shut down and the freedom to drink beer in anywhere else other than your lounge, kitchen, hallway, bathroom or garden ceased to be a thing. Before you ask, no i’m not drinking in the bedroom yet, I am, as I’ve previously said, not an animal, there are standards which must be upheld. Although going against the grain, we do have a television in the bedroom, which has been there for months now, and i’m starting to threaten to plug it in and remove it from its spot leaning against the chest of drawers. We’re not rolling in money with telly stacked up all over the place, I am merely the laziest man alive regards home “improvements”. But, now we’ve got Netflix, there’s plenty of stuff to fry our brains with and it makes no difference where you sit, to watch it; still fries your brain.

So tonight was a good night, better than last when we had a water fight inside which started off as fun and then became less so when I was cooking. I’d just burnt my wrist on the pan bringing out the chips from the oven and was trying to keep an eye on some Ribeye, the water trickled down my back into my jeans and I snapped, got cross with my daughter, I shouldn’t have, and as I had to change my clothes the steaks ended up nearly well done, thank christ they were seasoned enough otherwise it would have been a disaster. Tonight was better, we walked through the woods, avoided the news, in fact I have no idea how many people have died today, which is a good thing, its nice too have a break from all this hideousness for a while. But I am acutely aware that the shit is all around us as we tried to walk to a closed pub about 2 miles from us, and then had to turn back because the fucking farmer is in isolation as are his cows, sheep and moles (there was a whole colony in a field) there were notes on the footpath signs telling us this and suggesting we turn back or avoid using the gates. Now i’m a pretty good leaper but I draw the line at a 5 bar gate, not at my age.

Due to procrastination my walk was delayed by at least 2 hours and so my trip to the shop for the newspaper for the Saturday crossword was curtailed, the later it got the less chance of getting a paper, so a kindly friend picked me one up. All was well, all bases covered. Apart from the one which was marked, “supplement fallen out, therefore no crossword” Fuck it I had to get some milk and beer and chocolate anyway so I’d have to double buy the paper.

So thats it, or was it?

No, I listened to “Ummagumma” and I visited my pub. “What?!!” I hear you say? Yes I stood in the beer garden at 6;55pm waiting for takeaway food which appeared at 7pm sharp. So there you go, I visited a pub, and it was more depressing than I could imagine.

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