Sunday 12th April – Priti Patel: I’m out

Well Priti Patel didn’t exactly win my heart last night.

I watched the daily briefing and was a bit stunned at her smirky, smug, snappiness.

When asked about protective equipment for medical staff and why there still isn’t enough, she, frankly, got a bit salty.

The journo was querying how the Government feel about doctors and nurses dying because they’re expected to forge into a WWI style battle with The-Virus, protected only by the medical equivalent of a bikini and a smile.

And her response was “Well, I’m sorry people feel that way”.

Are you?

Are you really sorry?

Or are you simply under-loving the temerity of being asked an uncomfortable question?

And yes love, we do freaking feel that way.

Furthermore, yes, we can look with much suspicion in the direction of China and no doubt accountability will, quite rightly, be demanded at some stage but, lest we forget, China did actually report the existence of The-Virus to the WHO as early as December 31, 2019. 

So why was our Government still standing around with its dick in its hands until the middle of March?

‘Scuse my foul language, I’m normally such a sweet, endearing individual.

But seriously.

It’s all very well for Lady-Priti to bemoan the many challenges ‘her Government’ are facing in terms of responding to this crisis, but there was a good sixteen weeks there where action could have been taken to prepare.

So to stand up and basically imply we should stop giving her shit because they’re doing the best they can now, to finally get around to padlocking the stable-door of the well-bolted horse, isn’t really an answer that soothes.

She was super quick to gigglingly explain how often she does important stuff. 

That she sees important reports and dials-in to lots of important calls.

And she clearly was utterly enchanted with the whole idea of being front and centre at a big press conference.

Good for her.

Finally, some attention.

No need for clickbait here, The-Virus took care of that for her.

Lights. Camera. Action.

But if I may, Lady-Priti, it might serve you to remember two important points.

You’re only getting this limelight because British people are out there fighting, and dying.

And also, you actually work for us.

So wipe that smirk off your face sweetheart.

Friday 10th April – Clapping: Do the NHS deserve a bit more from No10?


And welcome back to me talking about whatever I feel like.

Today I feel like talking about the NHS.

For the first time since the dreary virus monopolised our lives, I actually heard some clapping last night. It was only one lady, four doors down. She looked a bit self-conscious and didn’t do it for very long before she shot back inside but, fair play to her.

Do you sister.

She was disappearing back into her house by the time I saw her so I didn’t get a chance to offer any moral support but it did get me to thinking.

Is all the clapping making the NHS staff feel better?

I mean, is that going to be it?

Is that all they get?

I don’t know anyone who works for the organisation so I can’t speak to how they feel in any official sense, but they’re literally putting their lives on the line every time they show up for work.

Every time.

Whilst other key workers are also at risk, no doubt about it, the odds are less catastrophic for an Amazon delivery driver than for a nurse working on a ward stuffed to the ceiling with people who categorically, unequivocally already have The-Virus.

So, whilst I’m in favour of any gesture that shows support and gratitude, we need to be mindful that that’s all it is – a gesture.

And it is nice that Government have jumped on the bandwagon and are out clapping too.

But I seriously hope they’ve got a better plan in mind than that.

My neighbour four doors down is clapping because that’s all she can offer in terms of championing the cause, she’s just one person and has limited ability to do anything more substantial. 

She’s doing what she can, and I get that.

Our Government, not so much.

Pay rises.


Tax breaks.

Additional annual leave.

A week in Corfu?

There’s a lot that can, and should, be offered to NHS workers.

So clap your heart out No10 but I for one expect to see you getting your wallets out when this is all over.

NHS employees deserve real, tangible recognition.

And we all know it.

Wednesday 8th April- How smashing: China’s having a party

Well, if I may just say so.

Fuck off China.

While the rest of the world’s health services stagger under the weight of the admissions, patients and deaths they are battling.

While bereaved families across the globe mourn the loss of loved ones, who, in most cases, died solitary deaths hooked up to ventilators in some distant hospital bed.

While our Prime Minister is still in St Thomas’ Hospital, on oxygen, as his pregnant partner waits anxiously to find out whether her unborn child will ever meet its father.

While economies crash, while the vulnerable elderly sit in solitary isolation and cases of domestic violence surge across the planet. 

China decides to hold a mother-freakin’ light show.

To celebrate that they’re all groovy over there.

Lockdown lifted.

Crack open the bubbly.

We’re alright Jack.

Whether it originated in some sketchy Wuhan laboratory or whether it originated in some vile Wuhan wet market, I think we can all agree, The-Virus originated in China.

And instead of feeling a teeny bit responsible, instead of exercising a bit of sensitivity and tact. Instead of waiting for the world, as a collective, to defeat The-Virus, for the day when every exhausted country can cheer and celebrate ‘Victory over Virus Day’ they have the utterly unspeakable cheek to whip out the bunting and throw a party.

I personally sat, bundled up in blankets, clutching my hot water bottle, crucifix and holy water (as has become my custom since I became infested) and watched their joyous merrymaking with my gob, well and truly, smacked.

Pass me a sick bucket.

And if that’s not bad enough, they’ve reopened their airports.

So they’re back on the move.

Business as usual.


The only consolation I can take from this sorry excuse for a situation is that, at some point in the not too distant future, we too will defeat The-Virus and we too will celebrate ‘VD Day’ (Victory over the Disease).

Coronavirus, not Syphilis.

Just to be clear.

Anyway, ‘VD Day’ will be the mother of all ‘keglers’ right across the planet.

Yes, we too will have a party.

And China.

You’re not invited.

Although, if the transmission of filthy diseases counts as a party favour.

Maybe we could squeeze you in.