The Incredible Wordsmith

  Remember when you were younger and you just went out and did some stuff and then came back again. And then went out again and did some more stuff before coming home and then the next day you went back out and did some stuff again. Oh, those were the days, weren’t they…? * Today, I am saying my official farewell to ex-president, Donald J. Trump. It’s just time. Time I made my farewell to the great hulking snake-tongued shyster over the pond. He has popped up in this coronavirus blog like a Whack-A-Mole that just won’t stay whacked. Donald J. Trump, Robin to COVID-19’s Batman, the willing accomplice with no purpose in life except to jump on a bandwagon of a virus that was probably, just about, killing more Democrats – black, poor people especially – than Republicans and was therefore, in his binary binocular view of only winners and losers, worth hitching his wagon to. They say that women are afraid of men killing them and men are afraid of women laughing at them. I think Donal

  Remember when this blog didn’t exist and your lives felt futile and empty without its bitter satire and biting social commentary? Yeah, those were the days, eh? I think that before I end this blog, I should perhaps revisit the various touchstones that have been a recurring feature. Namely: the Daily Mail Online, David Icke, Donald Trump, our government (done last week) blah blah blah I have, during ‘research’ for this blog, completely fucked up my internet search history and possibly appeared as a small blip on GCHQ. I make no apology for being an armchair anarchist, a liberal, freedom-loving ‘libtard’ but I am keen to seek out the opinion of others, particularly those others whose views might be diametrically opposed to mine. This has led me into some dark corners of the internet: the EDL: the Proud Boys website (much duller than you might imagine); the Ku Klux Klan (lightly dressed racism still smells like racism – you can’t dress a turd and call it a wizard); the Daily Mail On

  Call me nostalgic but do you remember when the streets were paved with gold and magical unicorns shat Bitcoins into your hands when you gave their balls a squeeze? Ah, those were the days… This week, in true teacher mode, I have decided to give the members of the government their annual school report after their first year in Reception Class   cabinet. Who is sharing the toys? Who sulks and throws tantrums? Who cries for their mommy until they wet themselves? Only one way to find out…. * Priti Patel – D- Priti has struggled in her first year here at Blighty Primary School. She has some identity issues that will need addressing and often walks around the playground saying, ‘Me top white girl, me top white girl, pretty princess, pretty princess’ until another child rides a scooter into her shins to shut her up. Although her reading and writing are coming along well, her poor social skills mean she is often left to play on her own in the corner with the big pile of toys she has sn