Pundits punt and thinkers think. But they’re having a hard time aren’t they? There’s a hidden agenda in todays world and I dont know what it is. Conspiracy theorists theorise and speculators speculate whilst wordsmiths are having difficulties finding the words for the chaos that is enveloping us.
Geert Wilders and his Party for Freedom in The Netherlands, The Honourable Giorgia Meloni in Italy, Marine Le Pen in France and Jimmie Åkesson in Sweden have all dragged their countries into the howling horror of ugly politics. These vile politicians have risen to the surface like scum in the vats at an abattoir. Forming coalitions with ambitious quizzlings they manipulate the unthinking untermenches into baying wolves who see anyone other than themselves as the enemy. It’s an unholy war between them and us, and ‘them’ seem to be winning
How has this happened, who has orchestrated this lurch into the unthinkable. There’s a hidden driver in the cockpit, a bastard bunch of scrappers who want the world – as we know it – to end before our very eyes.
‘Roll Up. Roll Up’ as the circus of abominates roll into town. Thousands may march the streets for peace but the exploiters in power have let go of the reigns just enough to let us believe we have a say. There’s something hiding in the wings and I can’t quite put my finger on it. There are those who know the details but finding the time to read the small print is becoming more and more difficult. Old eyes want to read uplifting material, it’s exhausting trying to keep up.
In the Vatican there’s a storage room, kept under lock and key where over 300 stone, bronze, and marble penises have been stashed. Statues that have been castrated so the hoi polloi can’t see the beautifully carved dicks of marble men. What do they think will happen? What kind of minds feel the need to smash apart gorgeous genitalia? Control of the masses me thinks. And here we are in 2023 having our dicks mutilated for the same reason we are now being controlled by a faceless group of individuals which serves if we are confused and castrated.
Who can be believed anymore? The television gives airspace to despicable human beings, the likes of Farage and Handcock, legitimising their very existence. And then the wretched public spend their money making phone calls so that more cock munching can invade our screens. We’re being sucked into a grizzly reality show of our own.
An unknown philosopher once said ‘Sometimes, when things are falling apart, they may actually be falling into place.’ Certainly you can’t fix it if it ain’t broken, so maybe we should be cheering for the fall of the old way. Raise our banners to new beginnings, after all today will not last forever, it won’t always be Tory induced adversity and we can look forward to a victorious come back when we’ve restored coral in the ocean and trees in the Amazon and houses in Middlesbrough.
As dawn breaks and rain spatters the window I contemplate a new day. should I do the ironing in a soggy cellar, should I phone the oven men to tell them my new oven is faulty. Should I phone the bed delivery men and threaten them with legal action if they dont deliver yet again – it’s been three and a half months now and my house looks like the second and shop at the tip. Should I keep calling the arseholes in China who scammed me out of £123 for socks, should I continue to be weighed down by first world problems or should I cut my losses and have a coffee in town with the old git?
Standing in the queue in ‘The White Company ‘ watching Ugg booted women buy Christmas cashmere for the price of keeping a family fed in Jaywick, it made me cry, worlds away from Gaza and Kviv and most of us are trying help in one way or another, so I promised myself to smile and bought a dangly ball for the Christmas tree, cancelled all thoughts of the severed willies in the Vatican and handed over my money.
‘If we can survive this upheaval we will have changed the world’ said the woman behind me at the counter. ‘If you can’t treat yourself to a bauble at Christmas then when can you? she said helpfully, and we hugged
Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair.
She said, and she handed me a tissue.
We love you Mrs B…….!
Happy chrimbo!
From the Borowski’s xx🌲🌲
Oh Jeni I do love you, you lift my spirits, make me cry, make me laugh, make me think, but most of all you remind me there are people who think like I do, I’m not alone. So thank you darling girl.💕