1-2-3-4-5-6-Apocalypse.

Feel like I’ve been away an age, haven’t written something elegant and flowing for what feels like weeks and I think maybe this virus may be upsetting me slightly; interrupting my flow, which was pretty good in the past. I’m sure loads has happened but I really can’t think what of late, one day rolls into another, one week into the next and all the while this incessant water torture of incompetent governance provides a backdrop of bad news due to bad decisions.

Brexit is dominating the headlines one day only to be overtaken with the news that the testing process in the UK is failing spectacularly, the health secretary, is woefully out of his depth and insists on blaming others which seems to be the whole modus operandi of the whole government, does no one accept responsibility for the shambles which we see unfurling before our eyes this week, the Virus is here to stay as cases rise, deaths thankfully remain low, but winter is coming and after this so called Indian Summer, we are experiencing, whilst great for thew Cricket series which is being played right now, isn’t particularly good to keep folk inside and socially distanced. The rule of 6ix was implemented this Sunday at midnight, so many had a last hurrah on Saturday, myself and Mrs T included when we walked up the road to spend the evening with C and her husband, we probably drunk too much but we didn’t care, the end of the world is nigh, and as we sat in our tiny little bubble, sipping fighting wines, Covid seemed miles away from Shrawley. They’ve got 3 kids, we’ve 2 so that made a total of 9 humans, my daughter didn’t come as she would prefer to watch paint dry than watch us guzzling far more than is good for us.

The rule of 6ix seems to be on the cusp of encouraging nosey pissed off neighbours to take into their own hands the fate of people next door who may well be entertaining a couple of adults and a bunch of kids, we’ve been seeing C and her husband a fair bit over lock down and as such I guess we are in a bubble of sorts, so why now? What has changed where we live to prompt the government to make us chose which children can’t come to our gathering? This Christmas we can invite my Mum, Mrs T’s Mum but will have to leave my elderly Dad home alone; my Dad who put a jacket potato in the microwave for 7 seconds, ate it and complained of it being slightly firm. Yes folks this turmoil that is following us all like a dark cloud around us is making an enemy of the people. Nothing will stop the virus until a second wave, which is well on the way, engulfs us, a Tsunami of coughing and sweaty heads. 

But this is what it’ll take, until everyone shuts down for the winter again, rarely venturing out and we get back to the hoarding of spaghetti hoops, toilet roll and sardines. The kids are back to school now, enjoying it to a certain extent but then my son said he feels like he’s in a classroom prison with 2 hour lessons and very little break time to run around and play football. , martial law and a network of snitchers will prevail in the Fun has been taken out of School and also life it seems as we are governed by fear, misinformation, lies, incompetence and an anonymous network of snitchers, “doing their bit” by informing needlessly and wasting the police time. Lifetime rules have got to be more localised, business has to return, but for the rule of 6ix to be applied only to social situations where offices and schools, universities and organised sports and grouse shooting, thank fuck for that, the glorious 12th delayed for a month, How Dare They!

And over the water Trump sits with a bunch of scientists and tells them the weather will cool down and climate change is bogus while America burns, Floods and is smashed to smithereens by Tornados. What has this world come to?

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