Day 78. Walking back to happiness. (19/3/19)

Oh the things I could tell you right now.

I'm buzzing to tell you something. But I can't. Not yet.

This is how my life goes at the moment, there's so much stuff going on in the background that I only hint at, that the world only sees complete a fair bit down the road.

So, I'll shut up. The thing that's got me excited will have to wait. It may have happened for me just now but you'll find out about it in the fullness of time.

Let's talk about John Bercow instead, shall we?

Briefly like, because I've spent a day on the Comeback film/TV script (which means faffing around until 3pm and then writing like a bastard to get near to the ten page target for the day - think I got eight) and what I really want to do now is sit down, have my tea and then catch up with last night's Fleabag and Alan Partridge, tonight's Derry Girls and the fact that all of Line of Duty has hit iplayer and we've not seen any of it. Apparently we need to. So, lots to do.

Didn't see last night's shows last night because I'd gone round to a mate's for a catch up. Four and a half hours of just having a gab. Bloody great way to spend an evening. There was an intention to get guitars out, never quite happened as the conversation was too good. Imagine a conversation that's better than guitars: seems a ridiculous idea.

So, John Bercow.

Unconstitutional apparently. Refusing to allow this shitty tory joke prime minister to put the same heavily defeated question in front of Parliament for a third time while we're not allowed a second go at it out in the real world is unconstitutional.

We don't have a constitution. We're not America.

What constitutes our constitution is a loose accumulation of prior bills, prior acts of Parliament. So, Bercow pulled out one from 1604 that says Theresa sodding May and her merry band of Nazi chaos capitalists can't try to sneak the same thing that they've already lost on twice through a third time.

And the usual suspects (Johnson, Gove, Rees-Mogg and the other assorted gobshites) are whinging about the fact that Bercow has had to go back five centuries in order to find a precedent he can use.

That's because no government in five centuries has been stupid enough to try this shit.

So we're confronted this morning with the sight of a BBC reporter 'doorstepping' the Speaker Of The House for basically the entirety of his walk to work. Which they seem to have managed not to do with Rees-Mogg when it comes to discussing the fact that he's moved his investments to Dublin in a manner that means that while we're scrabbling round for medical supplies the £7m a year he gains from one fund can increase as his funds bet against the pound. Nor have they tried this aggressive approach when it comes to Boris Johnson and his cuddly floppy fringed blatant racism. Boris leaves the house in colourful running shorts, passes round cups of tea and Jaffa Cakes and everyone forgets he's scum.

Perhaps we need to start looking at which bits of the BBC we want our licence fee to go to: Comedy? Yes. Drama? Yes. The news? You can sod off mate.

While all this is going on we have the lachrymose image of the #MarchToLeave: a motley crew of assorted pro Brexit campaigners weaving their uncertain way around the country, headed by.... no, he's not there, is he?

The most epic protest march ever staged consists of 60 people (and lessening by the day) while Nigel Farage, who promised this as the start of a revolution of 'the common people' has vanished from the march he instigated and never intended to accompany.

Tell you this: if article 50 is extended and we move through the upcoming European Parliament election and Farage loses his seat, his income, and his pension, all this may even have been somewhat worthwhile. His public humiliation would be a beautiful thing.

The marchers though. I'm fairly sure I'd find most of the marchers utterly odious on a personal level. Everything they display on the TV screams gammon, screams prejudice and bigotry.

As a group though? I actually feel sorry for them. They've been lied to. They've believed the lies and I genuinely think they believe in what they're doing right now. It's just the man who claims to lead them that doesn't. Because all he believes in is his own profit, profile and prospects.

It's actually all quite sad. People in their late fifties, trudging through the rain.

It is honestly, in every sense of the word, pathetic.