Its been a weekend, a sneaky bank holiday one, given to us because we were all meant, sorry we were invited to be pledge allegiance to a grumpy 70 year old man who has lots of money and nothing to do with `me, my Dad was far cooler, and thats all that I need to say. So this bank holiday Monday was given to us a s a bribe due to the television and radio waves being totally clogged up with gushing arse licking royalists, looking for the next headline following on from “Rich man and Woman go into Pub in Soho”
“Why the long face?” and then we realised it was the wrong joke and the perpetrator was executed, and quite rightly so, we need to restore some normality here, so we’ll empower the police to arrest whoever they want, especially if they are wearing a yellow t shirt or under 30 with stubble, Make Britain Great Again “MBGA” chanted the mad red white and blue people camping out on the mall, where normally this sort of behaviour would be punishable by being told to fuck off back to the hostel or to get a bloody job and then spat on. Yes indeed, times have changed and from my sick bed last night I heard the muffled dregs of Take That and Katy Perry through the inadequate soundproofing in our house, banging on about the best day of our lives and tigers and I wondered if this is the best we can really do? Good at putting on shit gigs, good at leaving litter all over the streets when we’ve had enough and the pubs are doing happy hours, good at living in the past and ignoring the growing consensus for real change. Let’s make Britain lush again, like the late 80’s and early 90’s when everything seemed joyously endless, and I was young enough to stay awake lest I missed it.
Lush or a lush, like the king.