The truth?

I don’t care about it.

Not.

One.

Whit.

Why?

Because it’s like the weather — there’s nothing I can do about it. 

Brexit, like every other clusterfuck in politics is just there, and I’ll deal with it as and when I have to. 

Do I think it’s a good thing or a bad thing?

I have no strong opinions either way, although, on balance, I suspect long-term it’ll be a good thing (if it happens), because the smaller government we have, the better things will always be. That said, the UK at the moment is pretty much a totalitarian regime — ANY state where you can be arrested for sending tweets and posting messages some people find merely “offensive” and “upsetting” has got some serious fucking problems.

But either way, Brexit or no Brexit, deal or no deal, I don’t care. 

Because it’s not like either choice is going to make anything fundamentally different. In both cases you’re subject to the whims of some arsehole in government whose most pressing concern is re-election. I find it hilarious and depressing in equal measure to see these lowbrow mouth-breathing knuckle-draggers posting their jingoistic bollocks on Facebook and LinkedIN ending it all with “RULE BRITANNIA” (in capitals, just like that).

Do what?

Grow the fuck up, will you?

Not only do you look like a narrow-minded, bigoted, and parochial twit, but you’re deluded because all governments are essentially the same. Do you really believe a post-Brexit UK government is going to be substantially or significantly different from a pre-Brexit one?

If you do, you’re a fucking idiot.

In ten years’ time, no one will care about any of this. No matter what happens or doesn’t happen, the dust will have settled and it’ll just be an embarrassing footnote in history (and a stark reminder how to err is human, but to really fuck things up takes a politician).

My advice?

Take heed of the serenity prayer:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

Courage to change the things I can,

And wisdom to know the difference.

The “God” thing is a load of bollocks, but the rest makes sense.

And one way to gain the courage, confidence, and competence to change the things you can?

Join us for Ground Zero.

We’re on a crusade to help local bricks ’n’ mortar businesses not just survive but thrive in the High Street Apocalypse.

If ya wanna piece o’ the action, you know what to do…

Click here for Ground Zero details.

Witheringly,

P.S. I can’t understand anyone who walks around puffing their chest out and saying they’re proud to be English or British (or any other nationality they were born into).

If you were born there you had no fucking say in it, you potato. You’re effectively saying you’re proud to be from the place your mother pushed out of her vagina. 

Can you not see how ridiculous that is?

It’s like being proud of having blue eyes, blonde hair, or a left leg.

“Yeah, I’m proud to have buttocks. I’m chuffed about my nipples, too”.

Fucking cretins.

Be proud of what you do, sure; but being proud of what you are, as if you did anything to achieve it, shows you up for the flag-waving, blockheaded simpleton you surely are. 

Anyway…

… if you’re running a bricks ’n’ mortar business and you want to rise above all this bollocks and focus instead on making the best of your own patch of ground (and understand you can help change this world of ours by thinking globally and acting locally), you know what to do.

Click here for Ground Zero details.