I am absolutely refusing to get my turkey twizzled by the latest scaremongering being used to roast the great British public.
Now Covid is not the great bogeyman it once was, a new horror is needed to keep us cowering behind our sofas.
This time it’s a total lack of meat to munch (sometimes called being married for a long time but that’s another story).
Covid cancelled Christmas 2020, and now it’s a lack of gas that’s playing Scrooge.
Or rather CO2, which we use in everything from stunning animals for slaughter to fizzy drinks.
It’s caused by a perfect storm of high demand in the Asian markets, sky-rocketing prices, the disruption caused by the pandemic and a broken French supply pipe.
Now, I’m not denying there’s a problem, but can they just all burger off with the constant terrorising again? No-one in this country is going to starve to death this winter. The shelves will not be empty. Santa will still be there to fill your sack. (And if in doubt you can always sling Rudolph in the oven with some sprouts).
Can you imagine if the doom-laden messaging had been like this in the war? We’d have all been speaking German, wearing lederhosen and embracing sauerkraut before 1939 was out.
And yes, I appreciate this very fine organ is also reporting the story, but at least we’re doing it with a bit of Daily Star (ox) cheek. To listen to some of the usual suspects, it’s farmageddon before we even get to Bonfire Night.
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There’s no point in worrying or panicking as there’s little most of us can do. Fretting over stuff is the most pointless thing us humans do. At the very best it gives you a headache and at the very worse it causes mental health issues.
My glass has always been and will always be half full. Unless it’s Baileys, in which case the husband can have that glass full stop.
Plus us Brits are made of sterner stuff than we’re given credit for, aren’t we? Whatever life throws at us, we cope.
Hell, if we can get through 18 months of the Brothers Grim Whitty & Valance preaching brimstone and hellfire, Professor Pants Down Ferguson’s “modelling” and Bozo’s blathering, we can live without pigs in blankets. At least this year it sounds like we’ll be able to hug our grannies without killing them.
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And the PM is trying to put a brave face on this one. It does still look like a slapped bottom, but you can’t have everything.
And it would be churlish of me to question whether our obsession with mostly useless wind farms and “green” energies hadn’t contributed to the crisis. Still, at least the dolphin-hugging Carrie is happy. And you can bet your recyclable crackers that she’ll still get a good stuffing this Christmas.
So can I please be the very first to wish all the lovely Daily Star readers a very happy festive season full of family, love, laughter and joy.
And those of us who’d rather see us cow(er)ed in a nightmare before Christmas can mostly make like another source of energy we seem to be ignoring.
And frack off.
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