I want to get off

Every now and again the sheer unadulterated utter clusterf*ckwittery of pretty much everything gets me down. I know, it’s hard to believe when I’m always so relentlessly upbeat and cheery, but just sometimes the utter stupidity of everything gets too much.

I can’t even raise the enthusiasm to single out the key issues.

Well okay then, Boris, his mate the haunted pencil, Michael Gove, Chris Grayling and his reverse Midas touch (Theresa, put him in charge of Brexit, I beg you; that would kill it off), Theresa doing her death stare to try and scare the Europeans (I suppose there is a risk they could die laughing at it, so perhaps they should fear that) - there is not a single member of this government who isn’t utterly useless, and yet they are building a lead in the polls. The only thing that cheers me up is the total rejection of everything they stand for by young people, and the fact that their core support will be wiped out in the live action Hunger Games that would follow a no deal Brexit. Like Trump, this feels like the final death spasm of an old world that won’t be missed, but it’s taking too long to shuffle off stage.

And then there was some idiot on TV moaning that we will get a bad deal because the whole country didn’t unite behind their suicide pact. Utter rubbish. This was a failed enterprise from the moment a bunch of chancers decided to interpret a narrow win as a mandate for everything they’d ever dreamed of, rather than picking a less damaging compromise that would have actually respected the vote. You broke it, you own it. Don’t you dare call me unpatriotic for refusing to cheer you on for humiliating a once great country because you can’t stand the fact that your plumber has an east European accent.

There, I feel better now.