It happens every time a few children are massacred at a school: there are millions and millions of teenagers in America and only half a million assault rifles, but it is always the gun’s fault if someone gets hurt.
Father Christmas* has announced that post-Brexit he will be leaving Britain out of his deliveries. His chief negotiator, Moosheur Barni-Elf said, “He doesn’t have time to sit around in queues at border controls, or waste days filling in forms and checking compliance divergence. Emergency talks with Brussels put forward the suggestion that if he travelled via Ireland he could enter the UK through the new fully aligned, flexible, non-existent, electronic border and avoid all that. ** To which Moosheur Barni-Elf replied, “The Christmas delivery routes were ratified under the common EU Toy Policy, and they are not going to be changed just because the British had taken leave of their senses.”
Of course it will take us a little while to get back on our feet when we leave, but what is thirty or forty years when one thinks of all the benefits. Just imagine a world in which we can buy a proper light bulb, a curved banana, or a vacuum cleaner that can actually hoover up the dog hairs.
The Diva is still stuffing her face with brioche alla crema in Tuscany, so Geoffrey X has agreed to let us have a glimpse of his holiday in the Dordogne, in Diary of a Brexiteer:
The Diva is away on holiday, so with her usual magnanimity she is taking the opportunity to give a voice to the other side of the Brexit debate. This week you can read the simple but heartfelt words of the ordinary Brexiteer in the street, in Diary of a Brexiteer by Geoffrey X