Bozza and the Great Biscuit Dilemma!

Thursday, 7^th May 2020

Bozza in a bit of bother

Do you remember when walking into a shop with a mask on meant you were going to rob it? I miss the old heist lifestyle. Now the queues are so long that I just can’t be arsed to get the old sawn-off shotgun out of the shed.

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So, well done to nearly all of us for staying safe, staying home, and staying alive. Now for Phase Two: unlockdown. Or, as I like to call it: Look at the shit we’re in.

Govt:  Hey, half of all the shops you remember are re-opening!

You:    But I haven’t got any money.

Govt:  Everyone can re-open for business.

You:    I’m a masseuse.

Govt:  Hey, you can exercise as much as you want!

You:    Unless it’s in the gym or the yoga studio or the tennis courts or in a team.

Govt:   Airlines can take to the skies again!

You:    But your advice is not to book a holiday.

Govt:  All NHS workers to get a shiny badge!

You:    Even the dead ones…?

Govt:  Feel my relentless and misguided optimism!!!

You:    Feel my pain (insert KAPOW! sound here, unless you prefer to imagine a fist-headed giant dildo being violently inserted in which case go for a combination of SQUELCH/AAAARGH!)

The government will no doubt attempt to call Phase Three: British Freedom Day! They will want everyone in the streets waving Union Jack flags and patriotically shagging all the nurses whilst drinking English cider and urinating over anyone with a foreign accent.

I will call Phase Three: Reckon Up the Dead. We’re not allowed to do it as we go along apparently, (although the govt. seems pretty fond of waving graphs in front of us and being all science-y) because some countries have hardly killed any of their citizens and so a fair comparison can’t be made. When a fair comparison can be made, I imagine that we will choose Tanzania because they have a population close to ours. Then it can finally be made clear that we killed maybe two or three hundred less people than our cousins in the developing world so we can truly celebrate the heroic feats of our leaders by everyone filling up our Toby jugs with Prosecco until we’re pissed and violent* enough to go and torch all the Chinese takeaways wearing ‘Batman’ costumes in an ironic gesture.

(* As a teacher, I am duty bound to teach the children about ‘British values’ such as democracy which the Greeks might think they invented but we’ve got the Elgin marbles as well so they’re clearly just rather careless with their national treasures. Other British values include rule of law (but not if it’s got some foreign germs on it like that European Court of Justice stuff), mutual respect (Hello, Brexit divide!) and tolerance. This can stick in my craw a bit when an event like the European Championship is happening and the news is full of sunburnt pissed up English football fans wondering if our friends from behind the Iron Curtain would like to wear a picnic bench on their heads. There we are – the plucky Englander abroad – displaying our mutual respect, tolerance and respect for the rule of law… Or, to take a different example: how did ‘our’ rule of law deal with the recent careless driving incident that resulted in an American diplomat’s wife killing a young man on his motorcycle? Oh, that’s right: our Foreign Office had a hasty but quiet word in their ear to say that if you hop on a plane sharp-ish, we probably won’t even know you’ve gone back to Trumpland. Or we might examine how Prince Andrew – or Royal Ambassador for Paedophilia – continues to exist outside of a prison shower room where he might right now be the favourite ‘little toy’ of some men who have a completely different set of values to our great British monarchy.)

So, Phase Three is when we need to get forensic in our desire for accuracy, in our desire to know exactly what the human cost was of our government’s response to this crisis. Some costs will never be known. There will be a lot of hospital staff who have been on the front end of this who will end up suffering PTSD because of what they have witnessed (and who might appreciate a visit from David Icke in his cashmere sweater to remind them they have just witnessed ‘a hoax’ – I’ll pay his cab fare). But at some point, real and fair comparisons can and must be made. Governments were made for holding to account. They might have been ‘guided by the science’ but they made the decisions.

There is already talk of this being a national disgrace so it doesn’t seem unfair to look at what Bozza did compared to, say, Jacinda Ardern and ask the question: Does going to an all-male public school just make you into a cunt? Rather than say, a leader of men. It’s just hard for me not to imagine a cabinet meeting being one long ‘biscuit game’ (if you are not familiar with this high-jinx boarding school game then it’s not the version listed on Wikipedia but does conform to the Urban Dictionary’s definition). And with a name like Dominic Cummings, it’s not hard to imagine who keeps losing…

Full cabinet meeting

So, it’s two barriers smashed today as we sail the good ship HMS Blighty past the 200,000 cases buoy and also the 30,000 dead one, too. With Captain Bozza at the helm, we are no doubt charted for safer waters but while there’s rum on board and weevil biscuits to gather around in a jerk-circle with his jolly old chums, let's set a course for Fantasy Island where we can once more take back control and bury the imaginary £350 million a day that we've purloined from the corrupt, socialist gang of merde-merchants that was the EU. 

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If you are missing tales of the Punk Krow home set-up, then I have been giving the family + the Voodoo Parsnip a rest. They were starting to censor themselves or say/do something and then turn to me with a threatening look: ‘You’re not going to put that in your blog, are you?’

But it’s a Bank Holiday weekend, the booze will flow, mistakes will be made, then slyly recorded in the Punk Krow notebook and written up for your amusement. Watch this space!

Latest data for the UK (as of 6pm):

Infected: 201,101

Deaths: 30,076

Celebrity Deaths: 4

People I know who are infected: 1 (one of my wife’s cousins)

Song of the Day: ‘Take Down the Union Jack’ – Billy Bragg