The Friday Rant: The Olive Branch
It’s been a while since we spoke and I’m sorry, I should have called or sent a text. I know you’ve been avoiding me because I lost my temper, but it was a long time ago and we should let bygones be bygones. I hereby officially apologise for calling you a xenophobic Little Englander with the IQ of a brick and the foresight of a candle-struck moth. The usual banter should have sufficed, but Brexit was an emotive issue and you’d not let on how you intended to vote. I don’t blame you for the secrecy, but I suppose I was in shock. How else can I explain why I’d superglue you into the toilet, microwave your wallet, and etch “Paedo Lives Here” into your front lawn with weed killer? I’ll never understand how you could fall for Farage’s snake oil pitch but it shouldn’t end our friendship. You may consider this letter my olive branch, which I hope you’ll accept.
As an act of contrition I’m having a Brexit BBQ on Sunday and would love you to be there as the star attraction. I’ll shut up and let you put your points across to some of my other mates, who I must admit still don’t quite get it. I remember you had some solid arguments – loads more money for the NHS, easy trade deals with the rest of the world, regain control of sovereignty, stop a Turkish invasion, return the hedgerows and wheat fields to their former glory, thatched cottages for all, and other heady stuff. There was also the end of terrorist attacks by foreigners and an end to the prospect of dead migrants washing up on the shores of Margate and Cleethorpes. Would you like a lectern? I’m sure I can borrow one. To be honest I haven’t been able to remember it all, but you can fill us in on what you’ve learned from the various Brexit studies the government has been doing.
FYI, if Bonkers Sarah starts taking the piss over the demise of UKIP, the EDL, George Galloway, or any of the other members of what she calls The Unholy Alliance of Wankers, just ignore her. You know what these Lib Dem Local Councillors are like. She’s all excited because she kept her seat in Richmond. You can tell her that when we get back all the money the EU have been stealing from us, no student will ever have to pay tuition fees again. That’ll put her back in her box. I can see it now, you’ll call her Smeggy Cleggy’s wannabe lover, and she’ll call you Farage’s bend over f... Oops! Best stop, or you’ll get all sensitive on me and refuse to come.
Joe’s son, Toby ‘nice but dim and surprisingly boring’ will be there. Do you know he applied for a job as EU trade negotiator and got a second interview? Apparently he wowed them with stuff from his gap year experience - a story of how he swapped a bag of maltesers and the rest of his toothpaste for a mango when he was trekking in Bongo-Bingo Land. I think it was pretty clear to all who’d got the best deal. He’s not sure where they’ll send him, but it could be anywhere. He’s hoping for Africa because, as he says, there’s “just soooooo much opportunity yah.” As you yourself said so forcefully, the world is full of countries stuffed with filthy wonga just gagging to do business with Britain. I’m not sure Africa has many of those, but you can put me right with a list on Sunday.
Speaking of business… You might want to tread carefully around Adam. He lost his job y’know. Whole department outsourced to Belgium because his bloody bank panicked over you know what. Seems a shame, especially as he voted Leave. Gina said something about turkeys and Christmas, which got poor Laura all upset. She voted remain so they were barely on speaking terms anyway. It’s really frosty now because without his fat salary Timmy and Tabatha have to leave private education and go to the local comp. They’re putting a brave face on it but that’s a no to Gina’s acerbic wit.
It’s a sad no to Luke too. Poor lad’s father got deported in that Windrush thingummy and he’s off to Jamaica to bring him back. That family has some bad karma. The council house in his dad’s name was given to some other family while he was gone and now he’s on a waiting list for a rebuilt Grenfell. Could be a while I said to Luke, and he laughed, but I don’t think from the crazed look in his eyes it was humour he was expressing. Riots in summer if the weather’s up for it, he said, and stomped off to a sports shop. I didn’t know there was such a thing as ski baseball but he came back with a balaclava and a bat.
I tell you who will be there – Karim! I love a journalist at a party. You get the inside info and all the old scandal comes back to you – our wonderful Brexit Trade Secretary, Liam Fox, resigning over his arms lobbyist boyfriend, Adam Werrity. Nothing to see there *ahem*. Boris being in and out in more ways than one. Ol’ Govey pushing the blade in while dreaming the UK would vote for a man whose face looks like a deflated space hopper without handles. Of course I’m dying to hear the new stuff too - how TM kicked Amber Rudd under the bus for implementing her policies. The bitter infighting in cabinet over who gets to push her under a bus in turn. Hopefully K can shed light on the “serious offences” committed by Leave.EU that has their chief executive Liz Bilney reported to the police. Don’t you just love those crazy mad politicians and their insane will to win? Oh what does it matter if Jacob Rees Mogg picks his way past a load of corpses and becomes the next PM? Like you said (often enough to be classed as an irritating bore in some quarters if you don’t mind my saying) we’ve just got to put it behind us and move on.
So that’s it from me. Hope to see you on Sunday. Don’t forget the Brexit theme and make sure you’re wearing your Union Jack boxers and England shirt.
Here’s to more cake for less work.