Operation Save Big Dog

Circle the wagons
Show your loyal-ty
Because now, more than ever
It’s all about me.

No surprises there
It was always thus
A sociopathic ego
with a Big Red Bus.

But now the gig is up
Chickens coming home to roost
The leaker’s leaking good stuff
About how we all got juiced.

We partied while you locked down,
kept the rules and died in droves
But one of us was prepping
Revenge Served Cold.

Now I’m thinking through a plan to save
my own sorry skin
Who will take the fall for me
like Anne Boleyn?

The head upon the chopping block
surely won’t be mine.
Come sacrifice your souls
at the Boris Johnson Shrine.

Operation Save Big Dog
Operation Save Big Dick
Operation Save Arrogant Prick
Operation Save Me Me Me Me Me


It’s one of those slightly surreal afternoons that Covid excels at.

First, a chemist’s at the grittier end of High Street, where one set of people is getting jabbed while another has their liquid methadone – live-saving stuff dusted with pleasantries:

‘Awright today, Steve?’
‘Could be worse, thanks, Bev.’

‘Just a small scratch…’
‘Well, that wasn’t so bad’.

Freshly boosted, she goes for a wander. She quite fancies a Bratwurst, but it’s too full for comfort. She’s damn well going to M&S for a little browse, though.

As she wrestles with her face mask at the entrance, a thirty-something-year-old bloke sidles up and says: “We still wearing a mask, then?”

His expression: smug righteousness. A confrontational gleam in the eye.

For a split second, she comes very close to decking him, then she turns and leaves him standing.

She has thermals to buy.

Omicron Lament (Here We Go Again)

To the tune of Dolly Parton’s “Here You Come Again”, slow tempo

Here we go again
“We don’t think we can justify tougher measures before Christmas”
It’s going to be too late
Like every Covid wave to date
It’s doubling every two days, so just Do The Maths please

Here we go again
Ignoring all those doctors’ & consultants’ warnings
He looks into our eyes and lies those pretty lies
Putting party before country & the poor sods in it

All he has to dooooo is follow the science
To spare the NHS dire consequences
But leave it up to him and in a little while
He’ll be messing with our heads and overfilling ICU beds

Here we go again
It’s always others on the frontline while he quaffs his glass of vino
Enraging us all so, that all we really know
Is here he goes again, and here we go

And here we go
Here we go
And here we go
Here we go

Boris Does Karaoke

To the tune of Prince’s ‘1999’

I was pissed when I wrote this
Tier 3 restrictions gone astray
And when I woke up this morning
I knew it was your judgment day
Westminster sky all gloomy, people in intensive care
Trying to outrun virus droplets
Y’all had better make a prayer

I say: two thousand twenty Christmas lockdown’s coming, oops, out of time
But privately I party like it’s nineteen ninety-nine

Hungover when I wrote this, so sue me ‘cos I had a blast
Well, life is just a party and mask mandates aren’t meant to last
Vodka cocktails all around us, my mind is saying fuck ‘em all –
Let little people die alone as long as I can have a ball

I say: two thousand twenty Christmas lockdown’s coming, oops, out of time
But privately I party like it’s nineteen ninety-nine

Yeah, yeah, hey.

That’s right…

Sing it for your nation, y’all

Whatcha gonna do about it?


‘Families’ fury at Boris Johnson’s ‘sickening’ boozy lockdown Christmas parties scandal’The Mirror, 1 December 2021.

Stratton resigned on 8 December 2021.

Japanese Cheesecake

There’s three of them, all masked up in the doctor’s waiting room. Flu jab.

The Bloke is watching something with a violin soundtrack on his phone, and tells the others (because how often do you meet actual new people during a pandemic):

‘It’s a YouTube video on Japanese cheesecake. Looks lovely’.

Which leads to discussion about a really good chicken dish involving ginger, soy sauce and rice wine.

Lady 1 is called in for her jab.

The Bloke says to Lady 2:

‘Should have been a chef, not an accountant. Wanted to switch when I was 34, but they said it was too late’.

‘It’s never too late’, says Lady 2 encouragingly.

‘It is too late,’ he says. ‘Won’t ever have my own restaurant now.’

There’s a bit of a silence, then the Bloke gets called in for his jab.

‘Look up the Japanese cheesecake video, right?’

Lady 2 says she definitely will.


Daylight Robbery

Judge: ….we therefore sentence you to 30 days imprisonment for the crime of…

Robber: This is an outrage! I’m completely innocent!

Judge: My good man, you’ve just been found guilty by the court.

Robber: It’s a matter of interpretation, your Honour. I was simply being helpful by testing the security of the house in question.

Judge: You took half a million pounds worth of jewellery!

Robber: But I also fed the cat while I was there, which makes everything alright.

Judge: The verdict stands.

Robber: I don’t think so. If you won’t play ball, my Powerful Mate will have a special committee review your position and the structure of the courts.

Judge: So he’d sacrifice the rule of law just to overturn a 30-day sentence?

Robber: You’d better believe it – he’s not exactly squeaky clean himself, if you know what I mean. It’s a cracker of a plan. What could possibly go wrong?

‘Ex-PM John Major: Government handling of Paterson case shameful’: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-59188972

‘Boris Johnson sleaze crisis deepens amid pressure on Covid deals’: https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2021/nov/06/johnson-sleaze-crisis-deepens-amid-pressure-on-covid-deals

‘Boris suffers brutal poll blow with his ratings plunging to worst EVER in wake of sleaze shambles’: https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-10174163/Boris-suffers-sleaze-row-poll-blow-ratings-plunging-worst-EVER.html

Polski Blues

For only the second time, my mum has a European carer. Her name is Lena, she’s Polish and she’s lovely.

On Day 2, I show her our food stockpile. It’s because of Brexit and Covid, I say. Don’t want to run short.

Brexit? she says.

The UK leaving the EU, I say.

Is it something you like? she asks.

No, no, no, I say – a complete disaster.

Because, she says, some in Poland are not so happy in EU. We are a proud country with tradition, we are Catholic, so maybe better not?

Oh no, no, nooooo, I think.

I say: Lena, please learn from our mistake. Keep your freedom of movement; stay in the Single Market.

She looks blank.

Final shot: I show her a Daily Mail poll in which just 36% said they’d vote out now.

Why have so many changed their minds?

For the first time she looks thoughtful.

That, she says, is a good question.

Ebenezer Visa

1 October 2021. We asked 6,238 European HGV drivers in motorway cafés throughout Poland, France, Germany and Spain:

“Will you be applying for an Ebenezer Visa?”

The visa would magnanimously allow EU truckers to rescue the UK from the supply chain mess it has created by leaving the Single Market and abolishing freedom of movement. The visa is granted on the strict understanding that if Stanislaus, Michel, Andreas and Carlos don’t “go home” by 24 December they will be forcibly removed.

A cautious examination of the results indicates that the UK is not the desirable work destination its government imagines it to be.

UPDATE: 2 October 2021. “Emergency visa scheme extended in major U-turn by Boris Johnson: Threat of Christmas being ruined by driver shortages forces ministers to expand range and duration of visas”

You Free?

Forget it, Nick, you won’t change my mind – I’ll never regret voting Leave. Our freedom from EU tyranny is priceless!

Nuff said, Gary. You free tonight? Fancy a game of darts down the Badger’s Arse?

Well, I’ve got a few things to sort out, like getting petrol cos FOR SOME REASON our usual petrol station’s run out, so I need to drive over to Lichfield to tank up… And then Trish wants to go to Morrison’s in Birmingham cos FOR SOME REASON the Weetabix, fish cakes, pizza, toothpaste and baby wipes didn’t come with the online shop. And get this, she wants to see if she can get a turkey now – in September! – cos FOR SOME REASON she thinks there’ll be a shortage at Christmas. Women, eh?

Soooooo, I take it you’re not free?


And you don’t think any of this is down to Brex—


Queue Jumper

The man saunters into the post office. He stands opposite one of the counters, adjacent to the head of the queue. There are five people waiting, neatly spaced at two metre intervals.

He lets Bakery Lady go up with her takings while he pretends to look at his phone.

Post Office Lady spots him and says: d’you want the post office? the queue’s by there.

He widens his eyes, all exaggerated innocence: oooooh, didn’t realise, been waiting fifteen minutes, you don’t mind do you?

This last addressed to Translator Lady, who’s next in the queue. She bloody well does mind, but what can she do, because he’s already sidled in front of her, and he isn’t wearing a mask. But sweet Jesus, she has murder in her heart.

He stands there smugly, while waves of loathing roll towards him from Post Office Lady and the whole of the queue. King of the Castle, the Guy Everyone F*cking Hates.