I'm already sick of the jubilee. Every magazine full of penile sausages, pork pies and red white and blue.
£3000 Union Flag high heels and female columnists cooing over the Queen's effortless wardrobe.
Well done Your Majesty. Here's to another 60 years of benign exploitation. It's heartbreaking to see
the country bowing its collective head in servitude to the pinnacle, the seed, the beating heart of the unfair class system that has allowed capitalism in Europe to run amok both morally and practically.
But who cares if we get a couple of days off work to eat Asda sausage rolls and look at the rich people's pretty clothes?
Every photo of a street party that I've seen in the press is full of white people. Is anyone else invited?
Cut out your Rob Ryan Jubilee Bunting and enjoy the sun.
Smile while you drown at their party. You'll drown in cheap cava while they drink champagne
in the gardens that they've built upon your country. That they've walled off and de-marked.
That they've labelled property and that they value higher than human life.
You're allowed in. For one day only.
