It’s deal day. For some, fairly arbitrary it must be said, reason, today is deal or no deal day for Brexit. Either we skulk away into self-imposed isolation never to eat a croissant again, or we skulk away into self-imposed isolation eating croissants which cost £320 and can only be made with produce sourced at a fair (European Union) price, baked by (European Union) approved bakers whose contract of employment has been ratified by some nonce from Belgium. Or a tosser from Latvia. Obviously the insulting of Europeans will have to stop as from December 31st if we do get ‘a deal’. In case of war.

I don’t know why tomorrow is too late when, for my money (and it is MY FUCKING MONEY!!!, and yours), all this deal avoidance could have taken place any time within the last 3 years at least giving transport companies the time to get 426 lorries into the queue at Dover and to build a few more shipping containers, which are in short supply where they’re needed (ie: China) whilst they’re stockpiled in every British port, empty.

Here’s a Christmas quiz for you. You have 19 minutes to complete it:
Make a sentence which must include these words and phrases, and hand it in at your local Coronavirus test centre before Tuesday at noon.

Boris
Brewery
Piss up
If his life depended on it
Couldn’t
Fucking (x3, at least)

Neatness WILL count towards your final mark in the event of a tie-break.

There’s no way we will get any deal whatsoever, even one not worth having. It would be politically suicidal for Boris to agree to anything whatsoever which might be construed as ‘giving up our sovereignty’, however minor such sacrifice might be. Because he and his band of far righters have always and only really wanted simple and total dislocation. The rest was so much posturing and appeasing to the 49% of us who thought leaving to be the most stupid thing since… since Chamberlain thought Hitler might get better with time.

I don’t ever go fishing. It’s boring. I leave my fishing to the French. Who love it so much that 85% of fishes caught in UK waters are eaten in Paris and Toulouse, Montpellier and Biarritz. Presently, and for a further 15 days, they pay us nothing for this privilege. But as of 1st of Jan we can charge them what they want. Cod and… chips, peas, mash, cod and everything will be off the menus and they’ll just have to eat more horses instead. Fucking savages.

Because to keep the fishing rights they need to give us trade agreements. Which they’re happy to do, as long as every box in every trade, for every worker and company and every deal, is according to strict EU terms. If not, for now and into an unlimited future, we may be liable for tariffs and fines imposed. Motherfuckers.

And, much as I’d love to blame it on that little shit Macron, on the big lump Merkel, on Barniers, Von Der whassername and all. I actually think this one’s on Boris. Who, despite making unlimited noises for 36 months, has never wanted any deal worthy of the name.

Happy Sunday

A xxxx