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A Nation Hooked On Happy Pills

December 31, 2017



Little usherette rock pools of empty blister packs scratch the soles of your 

beige slippers.

Are they yours, or another careless sad person?

You are dog sitting a dog for your sister, a black dog.
Cherub is licking his balls on your sofa, piggy eyes believing his French
Polishing NVQ is just lost in the post.
Cherub displays no emotion because archetypes don't have to.
Cherub is the black dog that signifies so much.
He would be a monkey on someone's back but English Bull Terriers are the
agility death card in Bewildered Pets Top Trumps.
Cherub has to plumb vacant depths of morose to represent the black dog in
all of its depressing shaggy mongrel-ness.

A month ago it was all good, no black dogs circling like shadows of the
homeless, Ben & Jerry’s on offer and a Michael Bay season wowing the

But then the world changed forever.

Netflix launched their 52 part series which aims to bring the latest Daily
Mail headline into any face anywhere anyhow.

Alexa reads the Coughing Speech over and over again to support the
telethon, which is being screened on every channel except Gems TV who
have secured the rights to William Hague’s 1977 Conference Speech as a 36
hour non stop double bill alongside exclusive images from the web browser
history of two yet to be announced politicos.

In a spectacular gesture, to celebrate the celebrating of the truth that The
Daily Mail boldly fronts up to the world, modern art will take its lead from the most creative headline stylists ever.

Whether racist, homophobic, sexist or some warmly remembered Lord
Rothermere sycophancy to the ‘Great and Superhuman’ Hitler, it's all
material for the majestic Margate Mess.

Tracey Emin has stuffed numerous Daily Mail first editions into a grubby
Continental quilt creating a new work entitled
‘Hiding All The Reasons Why We Are All Fucked’.

Despite sporting a moustache in the style of Mexican Revolutionary hero
Emiliano Zapata, Emin is as cold as Alderman Roberts’ ox tongue.

Daily Mail fantasists and cruel Tory social engineers alike will delight at the
irony of a staunch Conservative supporter eschewing an immigrant cleaner,
instead providing some rare right wing honesty as she invites us to ‘look at
the fucking mess we’re in’ her filthy bed and show off fuck tent finally
getting a metaphor.

Still guided by a strident voice clattering the letterbox of a Grantham grocers
from the inside, Tracy believes that David Cameron’s 2010 government was
the ‘best we’ve ever had’ causing many to protest that ‘their five year old
could have done that’.

Thousands now arrive for the special Gala in Leicester Square, its
cinemas requisitioned for Operation Rothermere.

The Mail staff themselves will watch the premiere from the perfectly named
Empire Leicester Square.

Invited representatives of Brick Lane food outlets and seven office cleaners
on zero hours contracts will give a flavour of the future once a huge trade
deal has relocated Bollywood to Epping.


Immigration controls will be dropped as part of the deal, allowing some 7,000 usherette’s and their extended families to come to Britain with the Indian subcontinent being coloured a symbolic pink on all future maps.

The similarly press-ganged Daily Mail day tripping readers chortle like
innocent fascists, racist hope destroyers and Gardener’s Question Time
nuisance callers. As they disembark their coaches it is impossible to miss a
homage to Nazi fan Viscount Rothermere emblazoned across the panels that
shouted Megabus just yesterday.

Under a picture of 1930’s pals Rothermere, Hitler and Mussolini is the
comforting slogan ‘The Daily Mail - Our friends in Europe’ below there is no
£350 million promise to the NHS, instead four key learnings from Adolf
and Benito in black, white and red.

These giants of World War 2, DID NOT - Take our lightbulbs away, ban our
vacuum cleaners or stifle innovative population policies.
And to their Universal Credit they knew that ‘Work Sets You Free’.

Cherub drags Little usherette towards her former late night/matinee/
Saturday Morning Pictures workplace.

She could do with some Happy Pills herself but licks the hundreds and
thousands off a donut instead.

She couldn’t stay away, in common with many people, the front page of The
Daily Mail mimics passing a particularly bad motorway crash determined
not to look only to end up applying every ounce of your Holby training to
possible outcomes.

That black dog seemed to look blacker the moment he saw Tracey Emin’s
Continental quilt and like a true art terrorist lump of canine muscle
crouched and Mr Whippied a steamy and sizeable dump in between plastic
poppers and duvet cover.

Cherub looked like a particularly stupid East-End villain with huge testicles
and vacant porcine eyes, the perfect guise to slip unnoticed into the inner
sanctum of Ms Emin and leave his personal excremental tribute to Tracy’s
favourite coward David Cameron.

Once the first showing had ended and with the chatter of Daily Mail
truth-manglers threatening a migraine, Little usherette looked at chunky
Cherub and realised that this situation needed more than donuts, Kia Ora
and intermediate chess strategy.

‘The revolution may not be televised, but it’ll get a Rosa Luxembourg
matinee hosted by Little usherette and Dennis Skinner’ she said to Cherub
who was once more licking his balls, looking every inch the Daily Mail
reader as he paid blinkered, excessive attention to bollocks for no purpose


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