When my daughter came home inanely smiling and told me she’d had sex on the beach 5 times last night I have never felt so relieved to know we live about as far away from the coast as it is possible to do so in England. That’s right folks and followers, she’d been chucking only cocktails down her neck at a BBQ with her friends. On top of that she had 1 flavoured (childs) cider and 2 Malibu and Cokes, she truly is a classy girl, and this week was meant to be her leavers ball, this Thursday when it promises to be about 30’C, she’s mightily pissed off with it all but what can you do?

Well in light of a huge government announcement today that pubs, bars and restaurants will be open for business on July 4th; England’s Independence Day! A day where speculation is that every bar that has a licence, will be granted another licence to spill out onto the streets, whether there’s room on the pavement or not. For on July 4th will be the day when the country forgets itself, literally, and when shoppers with prams will be shoved into the road, by stumbling stuttering racists slurring orders through the phone app to the new recruits behind the bars in Wetherspoons, remember the cunt who sacked all his staff at the start of lockdown apropos of getting a job in Tescos to tide them over, so he didn’t have to deal with the inconvenience of paying his staff their salaries through the virus. The same staff who tolerate the abuse, leers and sneers on a daily basis from the other side of the bar. A horrible man; I suggest we avoid Witherspoons pubs at all costs, the attraction of them being cheap and socially bankrupt will probably not worry too many of the population. Memories are short regrettably but must be kept alive. How sad  I’m going to be when my local opens and I won’t be able to go up there because of what an awful man the landlord is. Peddling racial hatred to the silent majority in the village, via Facebook, unperturbed to make a stand against him, to suggest maybe what he wrote and shared was incorrect and maybe he should think about both what he said and why he said it, and maybe change his opinion.

On July 4th, our Independence Day, when all the pubs spill out on to the pavements and anyone with a 24 pack of Fosters in a Morrissons bag can set up shop to peddle his piss in the spaces on the streets where there’s a spot for more drinkers. When the collective memory of what happened on our Independence Day is gone, when everyone wakes up in the clusterfuck of plastic glasses, and crushed tubes of half price Pringles unsure of why you woke up where you did, and with whom.

On the 5th I hope the A&E at our hospitals are not overwhelmed. I hope that the good we’ve done, some of us; not the people in charge, by staying at home with our families and staring at an opaque window to our uncertain futures, hasn’t all been for nought. The Virus has not gone, the government is giving the public more freedom to make the choices which will dictate the future. Ever since the shower of shit has been in charge there has been daily scandal, apologies expected but they never come. And every day, every week of this catastrophe leadership has been poor, no direction, no guiding light. And now with the continual mantra of

“Wash Your Hands” ringing in our collective heads, maybe it is now time for the government to literally do so of us, the general public, and let the virus run free, we can fend for ourselves.

What if this all fails and we end up with another bout, a second wave, a third wave, will I lose my folks to it, are they deemed expendable, collateral? For the record, I quite like drinking at home, it would be nice to see a few more people, a few different faces but it’s a hell of a lot cheaper being at home, you can sit where you want, within reason, and we risk less of a chance of bumping into Loud, Angry, Drunk, Brexit, Racist Shitheads, with too much £4 a pint Fosters coursing through their veins. The resurrection of the economy will be kick started by the most drunken crowd of people in the world.

Christ help us all.