simplysorro

The last thing we Remoaners wanted was for Tony Blah to invade our camp. We haven’t got WMDs so leave us alone, Tone. Your track record for global shit-stirring makes you persona non grata. Take yourself and the spinning, conniving Peter-the cheater-Mandlebum, off to your next speaking engagement.

And as for John Berk Cow..and Paul Nutter-all. Well the political circus goes on here there and everywhere but without the McCartney melody it is now a grating discord. No wonder that Trumpers and Brexiteers smile smugly in self-righteous confirmation that their vote has kicked asss. The game is to watch the liberal and political and media elites run around like headless chickens. Trump and Sweden..what’s all that about? Truth is (or not) who the fuck cares as long as the BBC and CNN get in a paddy about it?

Trying to block out the white-noise of global lying is a tricky business but I can usually manage it. I haven’t been blogging of late because seeing the world through a prism sceptical humour seems too trivial in these days of lying and poses. But half-term shook me out of remisery and I met up with old university mates. We laughed and talked of less complicated times and house prices that were affordable for twenty-somethings.

I saw La La Land and smiled. I watched a fat Sutton United goalkeeper eat a pie and smiled. I watched a brilliant hockey match in Canterbury and smiled. Improbably I braved Pirates of Penzance at the Coliseum – and smiled. David Gower was sitting in front of us, also smiling. I ate an American Hottest at Pizza Express; more smiles. I played golf in the sun and lost..but still smiled. And so on..

Claudio Ranieri’s sacking and the fat goalie’s resignation dented my joie de vivre somewhat but soccer is a basket case, much like politics. There’s no end in sight for Greed and the ivory towers where the rich and famous live in their bubbles. At the Royal Oak tonight a pint of Harvey’s will be a pleasing antidote to the infection of the world beyond my ken.