IN the middle of the pandemic, Cabinet member Matt Hancock put his new girlfriend down for a few minutes and decided to create a thing called the UK Health Security Agency. Office space was found. Staff was hired. Biscuits were bought for the meetings. Trans-friendly lavatories were built and then, after millions had been spent, […]
IN the middle of the pandemic, Cabinet member Matt Hancock put his new girlfriend down for a few minutes and decided to create a thing called the UK Health Security Agency.
Office space was found. Staff was hired. Biscuits were bought for the meetings.
Trans-friendly lavatories were built and then, after millions had been spent, the pandemic sort of wasn’t a thing any more.
So now the Health Security Agency has to come up with new ways of justifying its existence.
And this week it found one: The heatwave.
To you and me, the weather was lovely.
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We could have friends round for a barbecue, top up our tans, go to the pub for a few pints (of Hawkstone) and, if we had a convertible car, finally get the roof down for once.
However, the UK Health Security Agency took a different view.
They said the hot weather was almost certain to kill us all, and immediately went to Defcon 4 by launching a “level 3” heat health alert.
Warnings were issued that many people would be so traumatised by the sunshine they would try to take their own lives.
The rest would almost certainly have heart attacks.
In a desperate bid to keep us alive, they warned us not to drink too much alcohol because this would cause dehydration which would increase the risk of heatstroke.
They advised us to close our curtains, avoid exercise and put a bowl of ice in front of a simple fan to create a form of rudimentary air conditioning.
The list of things we had to do went on and on and on.
We should check on our neighbours, wear loose-fitting clothing and, if we were going on a train, remember to take water with us.
Honestly, I despair at how big government has become.
There are now thousands and thousands of people sitting around in offices we paid for, eating biscuits we bought, and doing nothing but thinking up new ways of bossing us around.
Councils are just as bad, with many this week warning residents not to cool off in rivers because of, oh I don’t know, sharks? Crocodiles?
And to make it all worse, the views of the nanny state are usually backed up by killjoy professors.
One, a climate scientist at Bristol University called Vikki Thompson, said the hot weather adversely affects our mental health and causes car crashes.
No it doesn’t.
Warm, sunny days make us happy, and you are far more likely to crash when it’s wet, or icy or windy.
To cheer myself up in the face of all this nonsense, I’ve spent most of the week posting pictures of the clear blue skies on Instagram.
To wind up all my mates who’ve waded through all those sweaty bodies at the airport to get to their holiday villa in Spain.
Where the weather is exactly the same. Ha!
ALL week, the nation’s bosses and bosseses have been putting on fancy dress outfits and heading to Ascot to watch people sitting on animals.
It’s not my cup of tea but if they want to stand around in the heat with an idiotic hat on their head, trying not to look at Victoria Hervey’s breasts, they’re not doing anyone any harm so that’s fine.
What does puzzle me, however, is how they find the time.
These people are supposed to be running the businesses that keep Britain afloat.
But somehow, they can take all of Tuesday off to see who has the fastest pet.
And then all of Wednesday off, to get over the hangover.
Small wonder the country’s going broke.
SO, Hollywood’s nicest man, Tom Hanks, flipped this week and told fans who’d nearly knocked his wife over to “back the f*** off”.
Many will argue these people were simply trying to take his picture or get him to sign a Wilson ball.
But imagine what it’s like to live a life when that intrusion never stops.
Every time a famous person goes to the shops, or to the lavatory, or even to a loved one’s funeral, there’s always an army ready to pounce.
And you can’t ever make it go away. Once you’re famous, that’s it. It’s like herpes – you have it for life.
That’s why big-name Hollywood actors are paid so much.
It’s not for the work they do. It’s for what the work does to them.
I therefore sympathised with Mr Hanks . . . right up to the point when he said that today, he wouldn’t take his Oscar-winning role in the 1993 film Philadelphia, because he is straight and his character was gay.
So Tom, does that mean that, today, you wouldn’t take the role of Jim Lovell in Apollo 13 because he was an astronaut and you aren’t?
In fact, your whole career would have been a complete non-starter if you’d applied those Philadelphia rules.
Because you’re also not a cargo ship captain, a prison guard, an airline pilot, a Second World War D Day hero, a simpleton, a Fed Ex rep, a child in an adult’s body or a small wooden toy.
THE police in Swansea say that the chances of encountering any predatory behaviour on the local beaches there this summer are “incredibly low”.
But to be on the safe side, officers have done a Baywatch and stripped down to their shorts and swimming kit so they can mingle with sun worshippers.
Nice work if you can get it.
On an entirely separate note, there were 1,900 burglaries in Swansea in the past 12 months.
OH no! Historians have discovered that the Church of England earned a large chunk of its vast fortune from a company that shipped slaves across the Atlantic.
Naturally, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, was quick to apologise.
But as we’ve seen in recent years, that’s not enough to keep the cancel culture mob at bay.
I wonder what they’ll do next.
Pull down a statue of Jesus. Probably.
And then, after they’ve sprayed “racist” on his face, throw him into the river?
LENNY HENRY says he is always surprised by how few black faces are in the crowd at Glastonbury.
What’s he saying? That there’s some kind of vetting in place, and that organiser Michael Eavis is secretly sitting in his office at night weeding out applicants who he thinks might be black?
This seems unlikely, so maybe it’s because most black people don’t fancy living in a muddy tent for three days while a public school twerp called Tarquin vomits on them.
BOXER Tyson Fury recently announced that in the past, he’d been an idiot abroad.
“I’ve had a few beers and kicked some taxis like we all do,” he said.
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Really? All of us do that?
I’ll be sure to look at Jacob Rees-Mogg in a new light in future.
