Fandango and Ragtag, together where they belong, on my blog, once again.

The exciting news, which you may have missed because theres so much other stuff to catch up on, is that our Prime-minister has decided to change the slogan from staying indoors to prevent the spread of the pox, to being more alert, and being allowed to meet friends in the park at a distance of 2 metres, but not parents, well only if it’s one at a time and at a distance of 2 metres. So you can see one parent, chat then hide around the corner for 10 minutes at which point you can meet the other parent; “Fancy seeing you here, and only a few minutes after Dad, what a coincidence, did you see him as you got here?!”

We have to put up with this shit everyday, not comparing Britain with other parts of the world because as we are in second place behind the USA, who will be runaway winners because there’s such a lot of mentalists believing that magic beans will save them, or God/ Jesus’s blood, etc etc, No now we have streaked into the lead in Europe, when once it was ok to compare because Italy and Sp[ain were leading, now we are its been decided that it may not be a good idea to tell the rest of the population how epically inept the Government has been in this crisis. Boris Johnson’s legacy will be formed by jumble of a lack of cohesive decisions, thrown at each other like spaghetti to a wall to see if it’s cooked. No his methodology seems to be as Trump does, a hap-bio-hazard cacophony of proclamations made dependant on which side of the bed he has got out of on this particular day, if its even his own bed, he’s got form don’t forget, and Carrie Symonds is probably not in the mood for his mop-headed fumblings and false starts at the moment. I’m afraid this PM is the most toothless I can remember in my 48 years, 30 at voting age, and he will leave a nation decimated by the pox, untamed, misunderstood, many families split apart, death sad and solitary in a magnolia painted cell, a single mattress and teak bedside table, Grandchildren on the window sill while sons and daughters look through the window fingers smearing the dirt.

Like a Modern day King Cnut, he sits on a chair made of unsuitable testing kits and not fit for purpose PPE, watching as the invisible Tsunami of Covid envelops him and the rest of the country. A Cnut but more than likely spelt and pronounced slightly differently.

Well this was supposed to be funny, but maybe like you, dear reader, you might be a bit frustrated with this all, a lowering in lockdown has happened and nothing as far as I can make out has happened any differently to how things were before. The number of deaths daily is still around 600,(awful)  although the number of new infections has decreased, which goes to show isolation and distancing is working slowly, but judging by the scenes in London and Birmingham, the second wave will be only just around the corner, at the beginning of June. Watch this space, you heard it here first.