The Freak Box

Well, thank Gawd that’s over…..or is it?

Bizarrely I reckon that 2021 was actually worse than 2020 which, for all its trauma and faults was at least different and a new experience, you could say it was a bit of a novelty. This year we just drifted along, fell into a false sense of security thinking it was over and ended up in possibly a worse position to start again in 2022. Fuckin’ depressing….literally….

Clearly there have been worse years. The death of my Mum, Jen being ill and all the years that the Arsenal persisted in paying Wenger wages after the mid 2000’s but this year has been right up there due to it’s general lameness.

We are currently in ‘Mid-World’ which is a fantastical place of death and misery from the genius mind of Stephen King in his magnum opus ‘The Dark Tower’. There is nothing real for us at the minute other than struggle. Clearly some have stuggled more than others but I defy anyone to say that they’ve enjoyed the last 12 months. It was so bad I took up running.

This country has effectively killed itself over the last five years through a drip feed of MSM poison. It’s mainly a joyless bitter dump now partially filled with conspiracy theorists but mainly filled with a shockingly low level of intelligence exposed through social media usage. All the dimwits can now be heard and if there’s enough money to be made in printing the crud it will be spread more liberally than Nutella on a Rich Tea, the blandest of all biscuits.

Right, that’s the fun bit out of the way so let’s get down to the nitty gritty, the nub of the problem, the big Kahuna, The Oaf with the big badge marked ‘PM’… Johnson…

It’s been a bad year for Johnson. Well, let me rephrase that. It’s been a bad year ‘professionally’ for Johnson and I use the word ‘professionally’ advisably as he is the dictionary definition of unprofessional. On a personal level Johnson has excelled himself. Free holidays, free refurbishments of buildings he doesn’t own, rule breaking, being over the side on the public purse and he even managed to squeeze out another kid he can forget about in a couple of years time when he gets bored of his current wife/baby mother.

The wheels have truly come off for the Mr Benn of politics. We’ve seen him as a Scientist, a Baker, truck driver, a builder, a lab technician but at no point have we seen him as a politician let alone a Prime Minister or Leader. He’s a mess and will remain a mess till the day he overdoses on Fois Gras and accomodating chambermaids. He looks more like a nursery schoool kids crayon drawing with the comedy arms, barrel body and messy thatch atop the wheel of cheese face every day and he represents this country with all that going on. We are a global embarrassment due to this shitshow but 14 million people thought it would be a good idea which says a lot about the state of this country.

To make himself look vaguely intelligent he has managed to surround himself with a group of individuals that would make you question the validity of Parliament itself. This ‘Tornado of Stupidity’ (I stole this from a tweet about one of them) is well known.

Truss, Gove (altough to be fair he appears to be the brains) Raab, Patel, Javid, Hancock, Rees-Jub, Braverman and all the members of the pathetic 1922 Jub Club supposedly run this country but purely for their own gain and to staisfy their lust for power rather than for the benefit of those within in. If you look at the Labour party and still think you’d rather have this lot in charge of anything other than their own toilet habits then I have little hope for you.

There have been many balls-ups this year by Johnson. There was the comedy routine at the Police memorial with the umbrealla when he went for laughs over dignity. Then there was the lack of mask wearing in a hospital but none were greater than the Christmas party expose which showed his utter contempt for the suffering of the people of this country.

I saw a video from a socially distanced funeral which took place on the day of the infamous ‘Cheese and Wine’ event the Tories had and it showed two grieving brothers breaking down at the coffin of their mother. As one brother leaves his designated area to hug the other a security guard enters the room to split them up. It is an appalling watch. All the while, back in Downing Street it was all pissed chinless wonders snuffling down on Cheese and Pineapple while laughing at us. That is the true face of this mob, unaffected by rules and the little people. We are the modern day peasants, we are expendable.

Now Kier Starmer may not be your defining image of the Labour party but even the most hardened Labour member must now realise that if we as a country are to remove these idiots running this show there needs to be some kind of unity behind the current face of the Labour Party. If not it will be another decade of this lot driving the country and it’s people into the dust for themselves but this time lead by the intelligence vaccum that is Liz Truss. It really is that stark. Compromise or surrender to this…..this shit….

The pandemic marches on, which isn’t too surprising although it’s massively depressing. My depression sits firmly on two fronts.

Firstly the ineptitude of the government who have undoubtedly mismanaged it with freebies to their mates, wasted cash and no real policy other than suggesting we all get jabbed. ‘Suggesting’ isn’t really what you need though. It should be, in my view, a requirement to fully function because the majority of the country have had at least one dose of the vaccine effectively proving that they are not against it but we all suffer from any restrictions placed on us.

Take me for example. I live in the Covid rife Metropolis, I’ve had two jabs and a booster. I wear a mask where I have to and sometimes where I don’t as I use my head to assess the potential threat. I wash my hands and test regularly if meeting people so I don’t unwittingly infect someone who doesn’t want it. I’ve never tested positive.

All this and what have I achevied? Nothing more than your average flat roofed pub dwelling Colchester United flag bearing thumbless mug who say ‘Fuck that…. Wot about my civil liberties…y’know?’. Playing the game has got me nothing more than your average plum who just don’t fancy it. Fear not dear reader… I intend to fully comply until someone in authority suggests otherwise.

And this leads me nicely on to the second issue causing me massive depression. No, it’s not another ‘Mrs Brown’s Boys Chritmas Special’ which I see as the benchmark as to why this country is where it is intellectually…… it’s Anti-Vaxxers.

Much like Yaxley-Lennon, The EDL, Farage and UKIP the media have decided that a new minority group requires all the coverage it can get elevating them to mythical status like trailer park QAnon merchants who think 56% of America believe like they do. ….They don’t. These two-bob groups are newsworthy in the loosest possible terms but in an unprecedented time when we need reassurance and as many facts as possible they should get no airplay at all.

Everyday I turn on the news or read Twatter and what do I get? More footage of a bald lump (they are usually bald, large, angry and wearing a tabbard) turning up at a Hospital or a school or a vaccination centre serving made up useless documents to unwitting employees simply going about their business. I’d love to be on the receiving end of that just like I loved a doorstep conversation with the local Brexit or UKIP representative.

These plums always cite ‘civil liberties’ of which they know nothing and not knowing what’s in the vaccine other than 5G chips and trackers. The reality is that a lot of this mob don’t adhere to most stuff served up to them in the name of the ‘law’ anyway and they fill their faces with allsorts of stuff where the ingredients are suspect from Ginsters Lip and Arsehole Slices to Schnozz , Lambert & Butlers and large bottles of Ace Cider.

I saw a great retort (outside of the actual facts) to the Anti-Vaxx brigade from an ICU nurse dealing with many of the unvaccinated currently on oxygen. He suggested that it’s best to take the jab because when you end up in his hands he’ll be pumping all kinds of stuff into your body which you won’t understand to simply to keep you alive and neither you nor your nearest and dearest will be asking many questions like ‘What’s in it?’.

….Save time, Save yourselves….Get Jabbed.

On a more personal note I spent a second year working from home. This always sounds like an outstanding prospect as you think no one can monitor you. You could happily roll out of bed at 10am and switch on your computer before settling down for a lovely ‘Gomorrah’ boxed set while you wait for something to happen. But that isn’t what it’s like. After 35 years working without much supervision in an office environment you basically monitor yourself and so are conditioned to waking up at 0545 everyday to start work at 0730. There are advantages obviously. This year I made time to get fit during known work ‘dead zones’. This meant I would work later but due to no travel I could start earlier and didn’t need to travel back.

My job then realised that it would be good for me to attend the office along with my desk based colleagues for our own ‘wellbeing’. So I went in about 30 times this year and was confronted with empty offices or days when I’d not see anyone in 5-6 hours which was an utterly fruitless pursuit in the name of ‘wellbeing’ but it assisted the Egg and Bacon bap shop and Transport for London.

This is the new workplace and it’s hard to expect anything different given how businesses appear to have efficiently functioned without rooms of drones like me walking into buildings. Of course normality will resume at some point perhaps in a reduced form as too many Tory landlords are losing money. It’s inevitable.

The hardest thing about working from home after so many years of working in offices with real actual people is the enforced loneliness. You are at home with your family but you take their company for granted. so they almost don’t count but I’ve always been used to banter and piss taking with randoms who I like and dislike. I’ve been used to bouncing ideas and strategies around face-to-face but now I’ve become a voice on a telephone or an e-mail response, a sort of mythical creature that magically delivers tasks remotely when asked. I have always been used to a work social life, the classic ‘Fancy a Pint?’ moment which ends a gallon later busting for a piss on a Bus from Highgate praying that you make it. That is all currently dead and it’s tough to see that returning. Working from home is a fucking lonely existence but at least it is working and so financially I’m one of the lucky ones. Depression and loneliness aside there are a lot worse off and as I’m a stubborn old fucker I will survive.

So, we stumble headlong into this revolving door called the 2020’s to find ourselves almost exactly where we started. Somehow Johnson still reigns supreme and his burning clown car spirals randomly out of control towards the firework factory called Brexit. Under normal Brexit conditions that factory would be empty but sadly Brexit hasn’t really kicked in yet so it’s bursting with explosives which could destroy this country and probably will. All it needs is an Article 16 spark and I’m pretty certain that the Oaf will strike it should another huge fuck up appear which can distract the nation for half an hour or so and save his thick skin once more.

We all know where this is going right?

January and February we are likely to see some further restrictions as the NHS may collapse as it hasn’t collapsed before. The country will be emotionally blackmailed into this as we all love the NHS and so the majority will comply and the minority will get the headlines and sales of Ginsters, Charlie and Kronenburg will rocket in the name of ‘Personal Freedom’.

The Tories will blame the pandemic for this but will avoid the glaring fact that had the NHS like all public services had not been destroyed by them over the last decade it may have not even been in the scope of a not collapsing as predicted as it would possibly had retained the necessary staff.

Come April Johnson will slither forward aided and abetted by one of the inner cesspool to quote a bit of Latin from Rees-Jubs ‘Big Book of Patronising Quotes for Prols’ to announce that we have beaten the virus (again) and the sunlit uplands are a mere couple of stages away.

In June we’ll all go on holiday at ludicrous prices and stand in massive queues created by irritated Europeans with the Brexit Arsehole…. Who can blame them?

After a drab summer of getting pissed outside on £8.47 Guinness in minimum groups of 200 we will prepare for another winter pandemic with a series of charts delivered by some poor, beaten sod called Whitty which show that the NHS could be overwhelmed due to the ‘Harold Hill Variant’ and so we’ll all rush out to buy tinned tomatoes, hand sanitizer, LFT’s (now £25 for 7), Bog roll, Guns, knives, barbed wire and cutting weapons in preparation for the Civil war. ‘Rule of 1’ triggered.

By the time the real problems kick in the BBC would have commisioned a thousands years of ‘Mrs Brown’s boys Chritmas Specials’ and the national IQ will be so low that no one will have a jab and it will all be over.

Johnson will then be supreme leader and capable of inpregnating any living female by the use of ‘Mind Bullets’ following contracting a new Covid variant due to inbreeding within Tory party itself…. Truss at this point will be like the Queen Xenomorph in ‘Aliens’ pumping out Zac Goldsmith at 3 a minute from a watery sack atached to her underbelly.

Nine months after all that he NHS might, just might be overwhelmed….but not necessarily..

At that point ‘Laboured’ (the non-resistance) will be engaged in lengthy legal proceedings against itself where they are arguing over whether the name of the leader should be ‘Keith’ rather than ‘Kier’ in order to appeal to the 8 people let in the Red Wall. They will settle on ‘Arbuthnott Jackhammersford’ in order to embrace that specific single working class member of the party left with an actual job North of Watford….. It is triumphant!!!! The comeback is on….

2021: 16 books finished, 1248 kilometers run, 2 pairs of trainers bought, 30ish days in work, one child into adulthood, a Great Iron Maiden Album and this, my 50th Blog…. But not a lot else…

Rubbish…. Onwards….