It’s been a busy old week for Theresa. Probably. There’s always stuff going on when you’re in charge of a country. At least it’s cooled down a bit. Just in terms of weather, obviously. Her seat is continually hot because, well, have you been reading the headlines lately?
Even today we’re supposed to celebrate the fact that the economy grew by a whole less than half a per cent over the past few months (that’s double what was achieved in the same period last year. Happy days are here to stay). So, as long as we can have another spate of glorious barbecue weather, a royal wedding (even little old anti-monarchist me can admit to the fact that they do play a role in bringing in the tourists and that) and preferably a World Cup, we’ll be alright. As long as we can forget the fact that many high-street shops are heading down the toilet and various other ominous signs.
And then we get to the whole Boris of the matter (I don’t want to talk about him either. It’s what he wants and only makes his power grow). Many prominent public figures, political and otherwise, have come forth to give their opinions on the matter. It was offensive. It was just employing humour to spark debate on an important issue. It was racist dog-whistling transparently targeting people with far-right ideals and wasn’t at all influenced by a recent meeting with Steve Bannon. Who will ever be able to unweave this gloriously complex tapestry?
So Theresa’s clocking off early this Friday. She’s on holiday after all, why shouldn’t she kick back in her sensible kitten heels? People have been taking the piss out of her obsequious curtseying (it’s bloody ridiculous but whatever) and she’s decided that she’s going to ignore the rest of the world and have a curry instead.