Category: Getting around the country

It’s a national emergency! We need strawberries to accompany Wimbledon fortnight, as the BBC gears up to show the complete tournament from the year Andy Murray won.

There has been an appeal for fruit pickers, now that the unskilled seasonal workers from the EU have been told to fuck off for good.

This is, of course, one of the wonderful consequences of Brexit. No more free movement, and a hostile environment. There are plenty of UK nationals desperate for work. You voted for this, as the dedicated website proclaims.

Or rather, did proclaim. It crashed, since once again the government failed to anticipate the demand. A cynic might say that the website was a last minute afterthought designed to be a shop window and no more.

In fact, the ONS disclosed that a total of 17.4 million people tried to log on. This, as the government will tell you, is the entire population of the UK.

Don’t use public transport! In fact, since rural bus routes were sacrificed on the altar of profit years ago, you couldn’t catch the bus in any case. Once again, the government is advising unemployed Brits to get on their bike.

The website has been somewhat resurrected. People have been directed to farms only 300 miles from where they live. This should not be a problem, since it is now perfectly acceptable to drive a distance equivalent to that from London to Barnard Castle.

Users lucky enough to access the website discover not only the fact that their job will be at the other end of the country, but also the FAQ section. If you click on the question “How much will I be paid?” readers find themselves directed to another page. This reads, “Take it or leave it. Incidentally, any Universal Credit, pension or furlough pay you currently receive has been discontinued.”

Oddly enough, this appears to be the only part of the website that actually works properly.

Pick for Britain! Long days, hard work, low pay, poor conditions. Do your duty!

NOT WAVING DROWNING : Downing Street has now put some words behind the other words and pledged to spend £5bn over the next five years building flood proof cycle lanes.

“Critics will say it’s just another big number put about to impress,” a Downing Street source commented, “and that when you divide it by time projected for spend and surface area it’s not that impressive. Just making a welcome start to overturn years of neglect. And we should only get kudos when we actually do it. Talk is cheap. Well, wait until we put it on the side of a bus. Wait for then. That’ll cost a few million right there. It’ll be a bendy bus.”

But what won’t be bendy is the cycle lanes.

“Solid, see through, reinforced, submarine plastic tubing. First one is going in to Hebden Bridge as we speak,” the source adds, “may get a bit hot in summer, so we can use it to grow hothouse fruit and veg. Double win. And when the flooding occurs? You can just cycle right through in the tube. Watch the cars and cattle float passed overhead. Magnificent. Bound to be a tourist attraction no doubt. So we’ll have to privatise them and see the profits go to tax havens. Of course then they won’t be maintained properly and will leak. What catch me in one then! Ha!”

But what about also spending money on flood prevention and protection?

“Oh, don’t worry about that. Funds for those things usually comes from the European Union.”

Good luck everyone. Good luck Hebden.

“Just be sure to bring some flippers and an air tank when cycling. Or catching the bus for that matter.”

Submarine cycle lanes? Whatever will they think of next?

MORAL COMPASS LOST NO HOPE OF RECOVERY : The cause of earth tremors recorded by the Royal British Seismic Society in Esher and Walton last night have been traced to Foreign Secretary Dominic Raab’s temple vein.

“The earth actually moved and it was due to Dominic,” a spokesman for the RBSS told LCD Views, “which is a first. It’s a relief that it wasn’t due to fracking. That would have required an attempt at a cover up.”

The needle movement, which was detected over the course of several hours in the sleepy north Surrey constituency, correlates with Dominic ‘The Navigator’ Raab’s attendance at a GE hustings.

“It’s no surprise the pulsating vein on his temple (recently made famous by a ridiculous bit of hagiography in The Telegraph – it’s a British low rent tabloid) caused the earth tremors. It was pulsing so hard it began to emit light,” the spokesman continued, “at one point Mr Raab’s head had to be concealed under a pot due to the sheer violence of the pulsating light bursts. He didn’t look at all well. It was a near miss that he didn’t become purely light based during the incident. Rumours suggest he fractured a molar gurning in irritation at his constituents, but you’d have to talk to a local emergency dentist to get clarity on that.”

It’s not clear if the plant that was in the pot, before it was upended and shaken loose by a quick thinking constituent, was injured in the event. Or even if it was returned to the pot after Mr Raab had left, shaking and throbbing, fleeing into the night to escape the justifiably hostile hustings.

“Steps will have to be taken to prevent a repetition,” the spokesman continued, “just to lower the risk to garden furniture and wheelie bins in Surrey. But thankfully there is a preventive measure that can be taken. I’m sure Mr Raab would like the help. He must have one banging headache after taking such a pounding by his own vein.”

The preventive measure is very straightforward and accessible to all registered voters in Esher and Walton. Get Raab Gone.

“Give him the medicine he deserves for helping translate a thin win in a dodgy opinion poll into a mandate to transform the UK into a hostile environment,” the spokesman finished, “vote him out on December 12th. And we can all enjoy watching his face as he attempts to navigate his way from one of the great offices of state and straight into the dust bin of history. A journey he’s certain to find extremely difficult as locating the land bridge linking Dover and Calais.”

Crossrail, aka the Brexit Line, has been delayed again as costs spiral out of control. Chris Grayling’s mighty hand of death lingers over the project, irrespective of any real involvement.

Crossrail must be completed, insisted Transport minister Dai Version. “Get it done, do or die, boyo,” he lilted Welshly at the news conference where the delay was announced. “We put it in our manifesto!” he sang in a rich tenor.

LCD Views’ Ghost Train correspondent took issue with this statement. “The Brexit Line is going nowhere fast and costing huge and unnecessary sums of money,” he said. “Isn’t it time to cancel it?”

“Oh no LCD bach,” he replied cryptically. “We will get it done by 31 January, come what may, no ifs, no buts. And I’m not going to ask for another extension! I would rather die in a ditch!”

Which is convenient, since Crossrail is just one dirty great ditch under London.

Crossrail is an East-West line which goes under London, avoiding the capital and the necessity to change trains. It is, effectively, a quick way to travel between Slough and Southend-on-Sea. The stimulus this direct link will provide is worth every penny, says Version.

“Slough has jobs but no people,” he trilled, hitting the high notes with consummate ease. “And Southend has people but no jobs. Linking the two is a no brainer! You’re welcome. Iechyd da!”

Crossrail has run into almost every imaginable problem. Typically none of these problems was addressed before construction was given the green light.

“Well, some problems were anticipated,” admits former Transport hotspot Chris Grayling. “But these warnings of doom and gloom were dismissed, quite correctly in my view, as project fear. Nothing that has happened since has changed my opinion. Crossrail has absorbed scarce funds and turned us into a laughing stock. In my book those are the criteria of success!”

It also explains why it has been nicknamed the Brexit Line.

NO ONE SAW IT COMING : Beleaguered caretaker Prime Minister Boris Johnson is feeling the love today after the hashtag #IamBoris topped social media trends.

“It’s happening in response to the savage ambush Mr Johnson fell prey to yesterday while dropping in to Whipps Cross hospital to lay his healing hands on the sick and infirm,” a Downing Street social media analyst told LCD Views, “he definitely wasn’t using the only refurbished ward in the entire NHS for cynical electioneering purposes, and got hand bagged by reality for it.”

It was not instant karma. It really wasn’t.

Although it’s reasonable to expect Mr Johnson is standing under a verifiable Damocles sword of instant karma, that is hanging by a thread.

A thread that is fraying daily. He may even now be able to feel the sharp point of the sword pressing down on the top of his big head.

The race to the top of the charts of #IamBoris has had the useful effect of pushing one aimed at sacking Laura Kuenssberg down into second place, with #WhythefcukdoesLabourevenneedaBrexitpolicyanyway in third.

“It’s a good thing that the public, who overwhelmingly support Boris Johnson, can show their love and support instantaneously via social media channels. It’s definitely not just bots that are promoting the hashtag. Although, funnily enough, if you look at normal Boris threads, the vast majority of positive replies come from accounts that just reek of lubricant, fizzing circuits and language that suggests they usually type in Cyrillic.”

Boris Johnson will he recording a live video later to thank the general public, although he won’t be taking questions in case once again he’s ambushed on one of his specialist topics.

NURSE : The current British Foreign and Commonwealth Secretary, Dominic Raab, has reportedly been rushed to A&E this evening suffering a suspected concussion.

The incident is believed to have occurred when Mr Raab decided to solve a navigational issue that had been vexing him for several hours.

“He heard there was a place called Southend in Essex. He was apparently surprised to appreciate that the direction ‘south’ ended in England,” our reporter, on the scene at Southend Explorers Infirmary, reports, “and he asked for a map to confirm his discovery. He couldn’t make east or west of the map. Clearly that being the case north and south were out of the question too.”

It’s believed the intrepid navigator thought about the puzzle for a while, positioning himself in front of a window sill of books he has no intention of reading, but likes to be near as he hopes their vibrations will make him more powerful.

“He hit on the idea of a compass,” our reporter rumourmongers some more, “having heard once that they are used in navigation.”

And that was when the incident occurred.

“Having one brought to him he then laid it flat in his palm and began to stare at it, hoping it would reveal why south ends in Essex. And of course after that, was is south of south.”

And that’s when the damage occurred.

“He also experienced a slight nosebleed, but it was the fainting fit that caused the most concern, one prominent vein pulsing on his right temple. Just fit to burst.”

The minister was rushed to A&E where he is receiving treatment in a room devoid of any navigational equipment or reference,” our reporter adds, “clearly the degree of confusion caused by such matters is potentially incredibly damaging to his cerebellum.”

Heaven help him if he is ever presented with a sextant.

“Ants can sext?”

OMG.

LCD Views have had the privilege of an audience with Mystic Martin who looked into the future, and saw that Brexit, the great issue of our day, had been cancelled eventually.

The details of how that happened can be found elsewhere , but our tale is concerned with the visit of our reporter to see the ghost of Brexit.

Our reporter Alice went down to Blunderworld, the Dustbin of History, where everything that ever happened is eventually consigned.

She had to cross the river of Leaver Lies on a boat rowed by Karen the Careworn Couldn’t Care Less ferry person, who had previously played a part in the ferry services involved in Brexit. And she had the terms and conditions of her contract borrowed from a pizza firm to prove it.

“You must pay me the fee for rowing you to Blunderland” croaked Karen.

“What’s that?” asked Alice, hoping there wouldn’t be a scandal if she claimed this on expenses. “It’s one eu-row” laughed Karen.

On the other side Alice found a bus waiting for her, driven by Brexy who was an On the Buses Inspector.

There was no writing on the bus and Alice asked where the 350 million for the NHS was?

“You can’t put that on the side of a bus” snorted Brexy, “we’d be up before the ECJ before you could say Tommy Robinson, or whatever his name is!”

Alice was dropped off by a lake, which was beer not water, and had tobacco fumes rising from it, from somewhere in the middle. There, just about visible was a little island on which sat a creature with bulbous eyes, playing with some fish, puffing on a cigarette and muttering “Precious, where did you go?”

“That’s Nigel Bollux , the ghost of Brexit” said Brexy.

There was another figure on the island which Brexy explained was a female called Helen Een, who had met Bollux on the night that Brexit was due to happen. It was only fitting that they should be together to keep each other company.

Having seen what she came to see, Alice returned, heartily relieved that Brexit was safely binned and that it wasn’t coming back, unless of course it escaped and came back to trouble us again. She also hoped that she’d get a good exchange rate for her eu-row when she claimed her expenses.

DIY WRONG : The Government is truly in the CRAP again today after an experiment to make Brexit work went wrong, as everything Brexit always does.

“Shortly before 5am this morning officers of DExEU’s armed wing intercepted a piece of Stonehenge being returned to the UK, on the understanding it would be restored in the famous monument by careful archaeologists,” a Downing Street spokesman informed the press, “It is understood the prime minister decided to overrule the British Museum and entrust her Transport Secretary with the honour, because of all his efforts to make her look good.”

Chris Grayling apparently readily accepted the honour, dressed like the villain priest from Raiders of the Lost Arc (the better to complete the ceremony) and proceeded to Wiltshire.

“It appears all was going well until Mr Grayling began an incantation while inserting the piece of stone into Stonehenge,” the spokesman explained to a pale faced press corp, “it’s unclear exactly what language Mr Grayling used, but it was inflamma-tory. He later claimed the spell was designed to harness the power of the ancient stone to make Brexit work. This is when things went wrong and the entire bloody thing exploded.”

Additional reports suggest the government intended to blame Gavin Williamson for this, by saying he had directed the army to let him conduct a live fire exercise in the area, but that spin was abandoned when they remembered they’d already fired him as payback for something else.

“We would like to reassure the public that although Stonehenge is gone, Chris Grayling was unhurt by his latest disaster and walked away whistling, as he always does, regardless of the scale of the calamity he leaves behind. As big a mystery as Stonehenge is, we mean, was.”

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-wiltshire-48190588

Maidenhead council has decided to honour its MP and former Prime Minister in the best possible way. A statue of Theresa May will be erected in the town centre. The plans have already aroused strong feelings, and the debate is set to rage for an indefinite length of time.

The statue was created by local sculptor, Charl Atan. Atan was selected after an extensive search, cost-benefit analysis and due diligence performed by Chris Grayling. Atan received over £33m for his work, although it was later disclosed that it was worth virtually nothing.

It comprises a lifelike image of May, in lifelike grey, on a 1970s pattern Dalek pedestal. To illustrate her flimsy hold on power while in office, it will be delicately balanced on ten Irish fossils.

The location is a big sticking point. Initial plans to locate it inside the town’s main car park have foundered, mainly because the local archaeologists want to excavate it in case there is a king buried there. So instead, it will be placed on Maidenhead High Street, outside the fudge shop.

Physicist Newton Slaws did a quick calculation, and gave LCD Views his verdict. “It’s all a bit weak and wobbly,” he said. “Even though it quotes one of her famous catchphrases, ‘Strong and stable’, I expect it to topple over almost daily.”

Geologist Luke Atrox criticised the materials used in its construction. “Whatever it is, it crumbles to dust under the slightest pressure,” he said. “Oddly enough, the next morning it has reformed, only to crumble away again.”

Town planner Bill Tenvironment was puzzled. “It has been placed in the middle of the road, causing an obstruction,” he said. “Nothing can move in the town centre, yet the statue has resisted all attempts to move it.”

The statue is likely to be a major attraction in Maidenhead. Of particular interest is the dedication, which reads “Let me be entirely clear about this. F@dge w8fle mea#dfuigle$$ r*f*r*nd*m d?l&v;r Brexit.”

We have breaking news today that a man is too busy counting money given to him by gullible (ham based) idiots to go marching.

“I’d love to go the whole hog,” the man said, in between guffaws, “but I’ve all these fifty pound notes to count. I’m like a pig in a trough. Imagine giving someone a bullseye to walk on a public path you could walk on for free? Ha! You know what they say about a fool and his money.”

There will still be a smattering of gammon rolling down from Sunderland to London however, with many miles on a coach, (between episodes of ambling disorientated like blind men in a dark room with a blindfold on ordered to punch themselves in the eyes until they’re too swollen to be of any use while shouting their bank details out with log ins to anyone who’s listening), to show how serious they are about becoming impoverished and losing hard won rights so rich men can get fatter.

“Next march I’m going to literally ask for the shirt off their backs, because a few will give them to me,” he added, “although if it’s in July it could be risky. All those gammon could turn into crackling. They’re so salty and so cut up, they wouldn’t stand a chance. Then they can eat each other’s backs as they trundle along a B road. Pint of warm lager in one hand, fag in mouth, someone else’s crackled bag in your fingers? That’s the taste of sovereignty right there.”

And we can be reassured that although the man who theoretically organised, and was presumed to lead the pork derivative crusade, won’t be there except at the beginning and the end, the BBC will probably give it excellent coverage.

“Get me on a lump of turf shouting at Brussels and it’s wall to wall,” the man chuckled, almost as if he was part of some establishment conspiracy, “put nearly a million people on the streets of London? Let’s replay Dambusters!”