It’s Feel-Goodish Friday!
Three things in the world which might make us feel-goodish today:
1. Treeza not turning up to the biggest TV debate for her own election. This revealed to all of us ‘hard-working British citizens’ (not me, obvs) that Treeza totally agrees that if you can’t really be arsed to face the shitty stuff, you can just bunk off or send a minion. The minion in this case was Amber Rudd whose father had died just two days before, thereby suggesting Treeza’s aim of overcoming the reputation of the Tories as The Nasty Party is a bit…wobbly. Rudd’s soldiering might lead me to cheer ‘Rudd for PM’ but sadly, she still spoke muchly of the bollocks during the debate and also doesn’t even know the rules of Monopoly which is surely module 101 for any Tory.
2. Covfefe. The joy this has brought us all week cannot be measured. Spicer attempting to defend his bad boss by saying the people who needed to know what covfefe means, know what covfefe means. If you have not enjoyed this latest Trump ‘news’ story, you must Google it immediately. All I can say is, tonight I will be entirely about the covfefe…
3. The Manchester One Love gig this weekend. I don’t care if all the celebs are shamelessly alighting the band-wagon of public grief, the concert is a GOOD IDEA for our city. Plus my girl will be there, weeping. And we are not afraid.
The award for Outstanding Public Feel-Goodishness this week goes to the two coppers we met in the city yesterday. They were thoroughly tooled-up and could take anyone out in nanoseconds, but they were also very good-humoured and yes, cute, and took a mo to speak to my boy. Their shift had started at 5am. They wouldn’t be clocking off until 8pm. They both said they wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. I thanked them for that and for everything and then felt daft. I’ve never thanked a copper for anything before because I’ve never needed to before. While we spoke, a fella appeared and gave them both a bottle of water. They said people had been giving them free refreshments all day. Well done Manchester.
The award for Outstanding Private Feel-Goodishness this week goes to Gwyneth and I for raising a girl who is somehow 18 on Sunday and NOT pregnant, NOT addicted to Ketamine and NOT in jail. We also deserve this award for allowing her a house party tomorrow night which will trigger my alcohol-related PTSD like an absolute bastard and if anyone throws up I will CALL THE POLICE. We’ll need a (cute) armed response…
Happy Weekend guys!