Not content at leaving the Country in Tiers [©T-T 2020], it seems our revered PM has at long last decided to go the whole hog.
The country has wised up this time, though. Clever people are now upping their game and will be entering this lockdown far better prepared than late March. Invoking innovative behaviours, from Panic Haircuts in Halesowen to Panic Parties in Peckham, the more savvy citizens have substantially upped their game from the mere crudity of pasta and panty-liner hoarding evidenced in Spring.
Now that Ground Control to Major Cunt has been wheeled out again, we should definitely not take our eye off the ball. As the Greatest living Yorkshireman might say “We never gave in”… and neither should we.
To be sure a veritable welter of opportunities exist for yet more unoriginal and meaningless bullshittery, which will indupitably soon be revisited. Remember, remember the fifth of November: this year we may witness the letting off of oxygen cylinders (pilfered from redundant Nightingales) in conjunction with large-scale commercial fireworks on our doorsteps at 8pm. Rather more impressive than the altogether less effective onanistic ovatory ordure we became accustomed to of a Thursday evening during the Summer.
What a shower of cuntery. Forewarned is forearmed!
Nominated by: Terry-Thomas



