You don’t need me to give you any recommendations of things to do this week. The nation will be gathering as one (metaphorically speaking) to watch James May’s new cookery show. If only there wasn’t a national lockdown, we will all say to ourselves, because surely there wouldn’t be an office or factory in the country free from the buzz that James May cooking a burger will inevitably cause. Oh to be part of that. Wither social contact etc. Why can’t we discuss… oh, I don’t know what it’s called. This is just a bit. Clearly. I don’t think it matters what the programme is called. Not really. The joke doesn’t require verisimilitude.
I haven’t actually got a recommendation though, so if you have arranged your life to be totally dependent on my suggestions this might be a slow week. Sorry about that.
In other news, what about that election, eh? I’m typing this on Sunday night (because I’m cool like that) and you are reading this on Monday (maybe), so things might change in the interim, but it looks like Joe Biden will be the next president of the USA, and Trump will spend the next two months acting the dick in an increasingly undignified manner. Biden’s win is only a small step in the right direction, and how much he can achieve in office will depend a lot on what happens in Georgia next month, but at least if aliens land any time soon and ask to be taken to our leader we won’t die of embarrassment.
I say ‘we’. Obviously if little green men land in my back garden and I have to introduce them to Boris Johnson, I will be fucking devvoed. Wouldn’t we all?
I’m off topic somewhat. Time to cut this post short I think.
Have a good week.