I assume it’s something alphabetical, but I’m not sure I like the fact that I seem to be the addressee for all the political crap that comes through the door.
This morning it was Nigel Farage’s stupid smug face urging me to vote for his party in the upcoming European Elections. Because, you know, he might want out of the EU but while he can still rinse it for as much money as he possibly can he’s all about that shit.
“However you voted…” the leaflet started off before saying that clearly it was the right choice to vote for the Brexit party because they could get stuff done. Or, at the very least, make as much noise about it in the process and get Farage on as many TV shows as is humanly possible until Brexit goes through.
Or doesn’t go through, if there is a second referendum. Or does go through even if there is a second referendum. Or we all die when that asteroid that’s passing quite close to Earth just ploughs into us and puts us all out of misery.
Nigel, sadly, went straight into the freshly purchased shredder. The universe giving a clear sign that things really do happen for a reason. And in this case, the reason was to make a picture of nicotine-stained Farage into lots of small pieces we can put in the compost with the rest of the crap.
I fear, though, it will not be the only one I’ll get through.
I suspect, as the date of the election creeps up I’ll be bombarded by the other parties. And then the Brexit one will pop up again, desperately trying to get my attention. Maybe promising to tell me that thing about the money going to the NHS again, complete with a picture of Farage drinking a fine British Ale in a Wetherspoons, wearing Union Jack underwear.
I’ll probably put in a quick order for some shredder oil tomorrow. Gonna need to keep those cutting blades spinning…