Scratching the Surface


Sunday, 12th April 2020

Nice picture of a butterfly to make up for yesterday's dildo

I’m in deeper than I thought. Like an undercover cop gone a bit rogue, nobody’s really sure whose side I’m on. It appears there’s only so much ‘research’ one can do on Republican arseholes and Christian Scientists and the David Ickes of this world before you get infected. Not with Covid-19 but with doubt.
In my own mind, I have taken on the role of a superhero (working from home version), seeking out internet ‘baddies’ and untruths. In my ‘uniform’ of a hot yoga singlet and shorts, I am best imagined soaring through the world wide web like the Silver Surfer, in search of injustices to right with my mighty blog.


Unfortunately, like a detective forced to look at crime scene photos, some images are hard to get out of your head: the way Donald Trump stands next to Dr Fauci with his arms hanging by his sides like a silverback gorilla; Jacob Rees-Mogg kissing Boris Johnson’s death-erection; Pierce Brosnan’s hairy belly lurching along the beach; and David Icke doing an unnecessary but very amusing, physical and vocal impression of an obedient dog sitting up for a treat. Of course, the second image is my own creation from my imagining of how Boris failed to get the help from the NHS he actually received in real life. That’ll teach me.
So it appears that the longer this isolation goes on, the deeper I go. And the deeper I go, the more haunted I become. And the more haunted I become, the harder it is to pull me out. If this was a film, and I was the undercover cop gone too deep, then I might say something like, “You can’t pull me out. I can blow this thing wide open.” But we all know how it ends for this kind of character. Their loyalties are muddled, they’ve lost contact with their families, they get shot in the back of the head.
Today, I was cycling happily along the empty streets, wondering if David ‘Son of the Godhead’ Icke was right. The sun was shining, no crosses were painted on doors, everyone smiled and waved at each other, and there were NO DEAD BODIES lying on the pavements! NONE! Obviously, I have been over-exposed to Icke and have a mild case of the conspiracies but I was looking around for 5G mast installations and thinking how sheep-like we are in our obedience to community house arrest.


In truth, I have been having a series of bad dreams related to the pandemic. In my sleep, I have also been chewing the insides of my mouth. And I keep absent-mindedly scratching the skin on my hands too hard and breaking the skin. Clearly, something is manifesting itself in my body that my mind is suppressing. I might survive this pandemic only to emerge out the other side as a Christian Scientist, Republican, Daily Mail reading, conspiracy theorist, wearing a pair of turquoise pyjamas and predicting the imminent end of the world (’cos our reptilian overlords have a plan…).


To cure myself, I have devised a quiz. A bit of fun. Something to take my mind off the fact that almost every type of social activity that is any fun is now banned for the foreseeable. To distract me from the dead mouse skeleton and the now deceased, but still beautiful, peacock butterfly. To stop me from listening to the neighbour that I hate instructing her daughter to perform a series of trampoline moves that her daughter can’t do but she can immediately after: “Just watch mummy.” A bit of light entertainment to prevent me from asking my son how many episodes of Friends he has watched today. Something amusing to help me forget the moment yesterday when I walked into the kitchen and shouted, ‘I love you, Amanda!’ and she turned up the radio and said, ‘Shh, I’m listening to the Queen.’

So here it is. It’s very simple. Can you guess which lines in the following list were taken from the David Icke interview and which ones were from the film Sharknado? The prize is a signed pair of my old underpants. Good luck! Answers are below the quiz.

1)      I hate sharks; I’m from Wyoming!
2)     They could do a mass cull with 5G.
3)     Ow, get off!
4)     Elon Musk is a super-psychopath and should be locked up for the rest of his life and I hope that they put him in a cell with Bill Gates.
5)     Chicks dig scars, right?
6)     We are each other. Yes, even you, Ethel on checkouts.
7)     Don’t you ever make fun of my stool again!
8)    It’s reaching its endgame.
9)     Apocalypse, my arse!
10)  It’s supposed to be a deadly virus but it’s not killing enough people to justify that label.
11)  Just a storm? Looks like a hurricane.
12)  The world is ruled by psychopaths, run by idiots.
13)  Surfer 1: What was that?
 Surfer 2: They’re called waves……. (long pause so we understand as viewers that this is one super-cosmic deep, deep dude) ……they do that from time to time.

David Icke: 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 12
Sharknado: 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, 11, 13

How did you score?
0-5
You haven’t been paying attention to the Punk Krow. Maybe you’re a newcomer to the blog and need to seriously consider reading all my blog posts before coming in here like a Johnny-Come-Lately and thinking you could walk it. Think again!
6-12
Not bad but what have you been doing under lockdown if it hasn’t been watching two and a half hours of David Icke vomiting his ideas all over his cashmere jumper and gathering the family around Sharknado? If you want to become an Inner Circle Punk Krow Blog Reader (Platinum Level), with access to the secret blog garden, then you need to up your game.
13 out of 13
Hello, Dave and Emma Browning! The pants are in the post.

Latest data for the UK (as of 6pm. Early blogging: White Russian cocktails later):
Infected: 84,279
Deaths: 10,612
Celebrity Deaths: 3 (Tim Brooke-Taylor. I am properly sad. It was kind of brilliant to grow up watching the rather surreal and psychedelic ‘Goodies’ on TV. Rolf Harris? Jimmy Savile? Not so much…)
People I know who are infected: 1 (one teaching assistant)
Song of the Day: ‘Infected’ – The The (I am dedicating this song choice to Scott Dendy. I don’t mean he’s dead. It’s just one of his favourite albums, I think.)

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