Gestation.

 

 It’s been a long time, long enough for a sheep or a goat to have sex, chew some grass in a state of post coitus bliss as they looked into each others eyes, with the square pupils like aliens and then go about their business which involves more sex, but most of all grass chewing and maybe the odd head butt. Some time afterwards, roughly about 120 days or so baby sheep/ goats or as they are popularised these days; lambs or kids, will emerge from the square pupils of the mother and drop onto the straw of the stable where they live. A point to notice at this time is the father or Ram is very rarely there, he doesn’t much care for the offspring, he’s just a sex pest really, a sheep without qualities apart form a bulging ball sack of swimmers to fertilise whole fields of Ewes.

The reason I’ve mentioned this is that we have now survived this Pandemic for longer than it takes for the above to happen, a tiger could have done the same, a dog, and a cat, not to mention other creatures, you can google the rest, this Biology class is over. But hopefully next week my son’s biology class will be just beginning, touch wood as they are all going back to school next week, so a week from today he will have returned back, his first full day in nearly 6 months. My daughter goes to her new 6th form college and the house will be quieter during the day due no Xbox and no dubious play lists from my daughter’s bedroom. Hoo-bloody-ray!

I feel my gestation is over, and am just about ready to embrace mine and my families rebirth into a new world, where the pubs sit a quarter open, desperately looking over their shoulders for the landlords who are going to be seeking the rents. We’re all fucked and i’m sure you’ve heard that before, but come October and the Winter, well lets just see.

This last week I’ve been feeling pretty flat, the time has taken its toll and as the weather and my world changes colour from a bright blue and succulent green to a slightly yellowing brown and rusty dusty hues on the trees, my legs are slightly cooler than they have been of late, shorts are still acceptable, but it won’t be too many weeks when I have to try and squeeze back into my bargain but quality M&S jeans which I bought back in February, I think, my waist fatter by the diet of chips and lies we’ve all been fed by the people in charge. Could be anywhere in the World really, aside from the folk of the Pacific who seemed to have escaped much of the infection. So whilst the end of next week, so in about 10 days the schools will be back to normal as the sinister throb of the virus repeats in the background, the daily figures of deaths will still be published, the news will still feature the statistics, and the Government will still stumble from problem to disaster to fuck up, ministers will hide behind civil servants who will take the full bullet and be sacrificed to protect some awful cunt playing politics with an overwhelmingly arrogant sense of entitlement.

“Some people will have to be sacrificed” proclaims the strawheaded clusterfuck voted in on a magic carpet of lies and manipulation. But how long before the public really, really (and I really mean it this time) have had enough and all turn in a communal conniption of livid voices and shout,

“No, No. This is wrong” and throw him and his cronies under the busses he is so fond of.  

3 comments

  1. I’m so over it! Here in Melbourne, everyone is still locked in homes, not allowed out after 8AM and only one hour out each day to exercise or shop for essentials. It’s crazy and there’s a collective sense of doom about. The CBD is dead, where it has always been vibrant and gorgeous. I’m sad. Worried. And angry. Probably like the rest of the world!

    Liked by 1 person

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