We’re leaving ‘Europe’. An island once more, we shall be. Rule Britannia. Lock the doors, shore up the… errr… shores and leave us the fuck alone!!!! Except when it comes to trade, of course. Then we need to peddle our baubles and trinkets to other countries. Oh, and fruit picking, potato harvesting, we like to get foreigners to do all that dirty stuff. Mainly because English ‘workers’, devoted to the words of Jeremy Corbyn, don’t actually want to ‘work’, as such, more to just… kind’a… take money from other people in the form of taxes and go back to the pub.

But we’ll get a ‘trade deal’. Though Europe isn’t prepared to discuss one, that is the remaining 27 member states of the Union, until we do 2 things. Firstly we need to secure the future of the millions of European people currently living here. Not kick them out. Promise. And secondly, we have to pay Europe about 50 billion quid. That we suddenly, apparently, ‘owe’ them. Then we can discuss ‘trade deals’ and Euro stuff. Its not a ‘penalty’, its just what we ‘owe’ them. Settling the canteen bill. Nigel Farage’s bar tab. That kind’a thing.

Surely the money owed, which is questionable at least, and the plight of our vast army of Euro settlers who are here, represent part of the negotiation, no? I mean, you kind’a wanna discuss the whole thing as a package. This is what we want, here is what we offer. Make a couple of lists. But that’s been met with a solid ‘NON!!!’ by the Euros who count. Sort out the ‘debt’ and the workers’ rights to stay, then we’ll negotiate on trade and other shit.

And there’s 27 of the fuckers. All with the right of veto. All with their own agendas, as well as collective ones and several corroborative little ones. Plus the bosses. The Euro heads, the Junkers and his ilk. Noted Anglophobes all and chronically resentful of our departure. And I realised, watching that man leave his dinner wiv T’reeza the other night, that its simply never ever going to happen. Us and Europe; its over.

Whereas the Spurs/Arsenal match is never over. Not for me. And its not the actual game that I love, so I’ve only watched the hilights twice now, but the pundits. Thierry Henry on Sky and Ian Wright on the BBC, in particular. Squirming. Flattering in their praise of Spurs. Devastated by the rag-tag army of flops and failures that now, not so proudly, wear ‘their’ shirt. But heh, I won’t gloat, I won’t be smug or conceited… even though its definitely fun. I’ll be gentle in victory.

COME ON YOU SPU-URSSSSSS!!!!!

Happy Monday

A xxxx