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There's a woman on the TV talking about hoarding food, Fray Bentos pies, gin, dog food, loo roll, and medicine in case of a national disaster, like a no deal Brexit. People are advertising what foods and medicines they have and where they are in their house. Now their neighbours will know where the grub is. Rees Mogg looks like he's either had his arm twisted or he's also just got back from the bookies. He seems quite sweaty. I always thought David Davis would be the fall guy but it looks like May. Andrew Bridgen who looks like an NF supporter, and I don't mean Nigel reckons Britain will still be asking itself in ten years why they are still in the EU. A man who needs vital medicines is saying he has three months supply. It is this man I feel sorry for. How dare they, the politicians put people through this uncertainty.

You know you have hit the height of madness when Uri Geller reminds you that Theresa May once touched Winston Churchill's spoon. The spoon that rests on Uri's Cadillac. If you are not sure who Uri is, let's just say I that once, as a child, out of that kind of boredom that can only be experienced by a child growing up in 1970's Britain, participated in some psychic experiment via Uri. I have never been quite right since, and if you like, I can tell you telepathically.. Uri is now planning on bending the keys to 10 Downing Street so that Jeremy Corbyn never enters. Never mind that there are no keys, the door can only be opened from the inside! Well, must dash. I have to catch the bookies before they close.....

THE DEATH OF THE QUESTION TAG

Well. As opposed to so. It had to happen didn't it? How the foreign press kept saying Spain was unique in Europe. The only country that didn't seem to have a far right party. 'That's because we already have the PP!' laughed some Spanish people. Lurking in the background was something else. It never goes away, does it? Oh come on, what is it? The party whose name we don't speak of in this house. The party who only seem to have come to light since the begrimed American who looks like he goes to bed in his clothes went to pay them visit. The tea party tea bagger type with a face that suggests he drinks to much and eats too many sausages type of fucker.The party who look like a bunch of homophobes who secretly wish they were gay but just haven't got the bottle. Yes, that one. They are coming to town next Tuesday, aren't they? In the conference hall nearby. Does the horror ever end? 'They' are already here but I am thinking of going to their event, their lecture, their party political broadcast, their circus of death just to see who their supporters might be. 'But then people will think you are a supporter if you go!' my friends say. Not if I am dressed in a burka. That way everyone will be pissed off and we might get somewhere. 'They won't let you in if you wear one'. So, it has to be something else. Throw eggs? Wear a raincoat, naked underneath and 'flash' at everyone as they pass by. Anything to cause a scene and get arrested? Anything, just so I can say that I did something, anything to inject some humour or spice into this mind numbing, soul destroying, political shift in the wrong direction.

Various headlines in the British press today say something on the lines that NF, you know, bad vibe Nige, is going to tear the Tory party from limb to limb' if Theresa may delays Brexit Where has he been for the last three years???

THIS WEEK ANDREW NEIL STEWART LEE

Watching BBC World talking about Ukrainian politics. It is as if the whole world wants to be Monty Python but the Brits are saying 'no you are doing it all wrong, let us show you how!'

NIGEL LAWSON CARTE DE SEJOUR

You may or may not know that Nigel Lawson, former Chancer, sorry, Chancellor, you know, Nigella's dad, is selling up in France and returning to the UK. It is known that he applied for his carte de sejour, around six months ago, the French residency card that would help him get medical coverage amongst other benefits. He claims that Brexit has nothing to do with him moving, although there is some gossip or speculation that French bureaucracy played a part in all this. I think I know what this all really means but I need the help of a PG Wodehouse quote. 'Into the face of the young man who sat on the terrace of the Hotel Magnifique at Cannes there had crept a look of furtive shame, the shifty hangdog look which announces that an Englishman is about to speak French.' 

Just go somewhere and pretend you are on Facebook.

WHY SPAIN?

On a Facebook forum recently, people were asked why they lived in Spain. Foreigners who live in Spain, not Spanish people. What keeps them here? I said that for me it was because I like living in a place that doesn't demonise young people, a place where children seemed loved and where parents don't freak out if I approach their kids or vice versa, where old people are not invisible. A place where people live outside whatever the weather. Then of course there is the diet and the sense that people don't want to create conflict between each other. A country where you can lean into someone, a stranger say, in a bar or cafe, as I have done on occasions, and the other person doesn't beat you up or give you a mouthful.

People with Facebook and Instagram often get requests from people who want to be their friends, followers or maybe more. It is often from young, good looking women from far away countries. I have had a couple of those but on the whole my potential admirers are bird fanciers and fishermen!

As well as his ideology, ambitions, outlook on life and so on what is it about Jacob Rees Mogg that puts the wind up me? Is it the feeling you are in the presence of someone wearing a dead man's suit? Someone who is breathing the cold breath of death against your neck? The vibe that everyone is being prodded by a cold limp dick? Is he just a statue representing bad sex and a bad death. Is that what Brexit is really about? Is there anyone on the planet who finds joy when they see him? That is it. There is no joie de vivre.