Cripes, the new year is upon us, and the jolly jape that is Brexit is still going! How long before House Mistress May realises, and gives us all six of the best? The thought keeps me up at night, and I don’t mean awake. OK, crystal ball out. Here goes!
January: Theresa May will refuse the vote on her “deal” again. Jeremy Corbyn will threaten to actually do something. Again. Nothing will happen. Again. I will initiate as many interns as possible.
February: Michael Gove will reaffirm his support for Theresa May in a bare-faced leadership bid. I will receive hundreds of Valentine’s cards and spend most of the month covering fillies.
March: Lemmings will gather on every cliff edge in Britain. May’s “deal” will be approved at 10.59pm on the 29th. Lemmings will go home disappointed.
April: Hundreds of disgruntled people will gather outside parliament to protest. They will not be Brexiters or Remainers, but Londoners on a day trip to Clacton whose coach broke down in Westminster.
May: Footballers playing for European teams will domicile themselves in Clacton to avoid paying tax. The Eurostar will be chartered to take them back to Paris or wherever so they can pretend to be hurt like great big pansies. Rugger is still the real men’s sport.
June: Jacob Rees-Mogg will blame the EU for the incessant rain. Michael Fish will be dragged out of retirement to forecast sunshine. At Lord’s, rain may stop play, but I will bowl many a maiden over. Howzat?
July: Thousands will realise that their holiday in Spain is beyond their means, and that it will take six months to get a visa. Should have bought a premium blue Boris passport! There will be 16 miles of queueing coaches on the approaches to Clacton.
August: The newspapers will try to convince you that half a day of sunshine constitutes a heatwave. Clacton will run out of ice-cream. I will be at the Cambridge Shakespeare Festival squiring serving wenches.
September: Schoolchildren will be obliged to do compulsory fruit-picking instead of homework.
October: Food and fuel shortages will be in full swing. The three day week will be reintroduced, meaning October will last for ten weeks instead of the usual four.
November: As the nights draw in, people will be advised to share beds to keep warm. I will do my bit by sharing my bed with anyone female, young, nubile and daft enough to take me up on my offer.
December: I will get into the Christmas spirit by dressing in red and coming up as many chimneys as possible. As my dusky chums say, ho ho ho! By this time, EberTreeza Scrooge will probably go cap in hand to the EU and beg for re-entry. I will beg for re-entry with every ho ho ho! And then look forward to a damn good thrashing.
My warmest confibulations to you all.