The obnoxiousness of our head of state, so called Boris of Johnson has the country totally under his control. He can literally make anything up that he likes, stand in front of the TV cameras and peddle these lies whilst looking into the eyes of a gullible nation. He is a man possessed with such delusion that is seems to me that this is all game to him, Brexit, the Virus, thank God we’re not at war right now, who knows what he’d do.

The man’s handling of the Virus has been poor, lets face it, promises made and the blame shifted onto poor unfortunates who just so happened to be in his employment or in the vicinity of his chief of staff, Mr D Cummings, the executioner and puppeteer of a foppish mop haired bare faced liar.

Yesterday there was a press conference, Hands, Face, Space, being the new 3 word slogan emblazoned on the lectern it may as well be Person, Woman, Man, Camera, TV, which would possibly show solidarity with our cousins across the pond because at the moment Johnson is trying his hardest to completely ruin any credibility we have with the Americans by changing the rules and laws relating to Ireland and Brexit. Brushing off questions at the press conference by not answering the questions asked is no surprise but this was astonishing in its bluster and arrogance. 

Operation Moonshot is the latest dalliance into science fiction, his goal; to test 10 million people a day, A DAY! for Corona Virus, shooting for the moon, using technology which doesnt yet exist and in numbers which are impossible to comprehend, to say I would eat my hat if this ever transpired would be under-exaggerating what I will eat, as I will eat every hat in my house, and I own a lot of hats. He may have well said he intends to fly to see Trump on a fleet of magic carpets because the views would be splendid, but the one small sticking point is that the technology isn’t quite there, or actually doesn’t even exist, failing that he could travel to parliament on a broom stick, the bristles swishing in the wind as he tears around the corridors of power and privilege at break net speed as he rushes to not answer any questions at Prime Minister’s Questions, instead preferring to ask the leader of the opposition questions. This isn’t how things are meant to be done, its called PMQ’s for a reason, and being held to account by the leader of the opposition seems fair enough to me. 

The Tories have such a huge majority that really they should be able to make pretty difficult decisions for the good of the country, strong and robust leadership is required in these unprecedented times, how I long for precedented times again, whatever they were. We’ve now got the rule of 6ix to deal with; you can only get together in social situations with a maximum of 6 people and as my daughter rightly pointed out, that’s not 2 average families, and a cynically you could be forgiven for thinking that it feels like more than one family, but for us it means we won’t be able to see another family as a group, so the number 6 is higher than 4 but really it doesn’t mean much. This Christmas we are planning to invite my mother and Mrs T’s mother but leave my Dad to fend for himself at home on his own, in a world ruled by Radioactive spiders with robot hands on the end of each leg enabling the spiders to do the 10 million Covid tests a day. This is the aim, but the technology isn’t quite there yet.