Don’t know what happened to days 75 and 76 but that’s the nature of this totally dystopian world in which we now live. If you call this ‘living’!!! Because Team Boris have a plan. Which is to remove the very essence of sociability, of community, of our very humanity. Lock yourselves up for 3 months and don’t see no-one! If you meet someone by accident, then either kill them, or kill yourself. It’s the only way to beat the virus. What are the prostitutes going to do? Have you thought of that? 

I must admire the Americans though. Because when the shit hits the fan, they do what any sensible people would and should do, which is buy more guns. No, I have no idea why either but I keep seeing photos of massive queues, or even massive lines, outside gun shops in the States. Note to Americans: if you could shoot the virus, the army would already be doing it. Over here its toilet rolls, over there, weapons. You could read a lot into that if you could be bothered.

The daily newspaper is now re-named The Coronavirus Times. And is all about numbers. How many died, how many have the virus, how many are likely to enter both statistical groups over the next days/weeks/months. Then you move to the arts and culture pages and learn which of our fabulous celebs have either got the virus already or are self-isolating because they were molested by someone who has. The Sports pages tell us how much more sport is cancelled, delayed, deferred, postponed or abandoned. No ‘results’ as such because nothing’s being played. BetFair are now taking bets only on Coronavirus. With ‘live betting’ available for death tolls.

I’ve written to the Chancellor to complain. Well, why not. Not like he has much else to do. Because they’ve taken away my public. All of them. Fleet Street is now ‘working from home’. All of it. Except me and the KFC. When I go home at night I turn the street lights out.

But birthdays don’t wait. So the parties went on. And thus I spent Sunday morning at the brunch party for ‘the twin’ and the afternoon at the tea party for ‘the wife’. Or the ‘twin’s twin’. In line with the ‘KEEP 2 METRES BETWEEN YOU AND EVERYONE ELSE IN THE WORLD AT ALL TIMES!!!!’ ruling, I shmoozed, I hugged, I kissed, then remembered that the whole ‘social animal’ or ‘sexual deviant’ thing is currently suspended. Ooops.   Happy Tuesday, phah!

A xxxx