With Christmas a mere 10 days away, the UK is abuzz with the new party game to be enjoyed by all the family after the ritual demolishing of the turkey, which we Brits devour with much abandon just in case they suddenly join the EU. (Coming over here, basking in our cranberries…)  It’s called What Does Brexit Mean, Auntie Sylvia? (And if Auntie Sylvia knows, she’s the only damn person in the entire country to have much of a clue).

Now, I know what you’re going to say: Brexit means Brexit!  But if you express that in mathematical form, it’s:-

x = x

when x is a factor under consideration of knowledge knowable naturally only to worthless scholars, or FUCK KNOWS for short.

And as much as this is the official Government line, even Theresa May doesn’t understand it, which is why she decided to express it in colour as a Red, White and Blue Brexit.  Which on reflection could denote a Cuban Brexit, a Bermudan Brexit, a Cambodian or North Korean Brexit, or, of course, a Federation of Rhodesia and Nyasaland Brexit.  Though I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that.

But then it suddenly occurred to me: where, in this highly-sophisticated era of cutting-edge technology, do the ruling elite disseminate their political messages?  That’s it!  Though sadly, I have to report the only fact I gleaned from the side of a bus is Weetabix means Weetabix.

So it’s anyone’s guess as to what we’ll end up with.  Hard, soft, medium, sunny side up (not available), over easy (definitely not available), drifting off alone into the North Sea kind of Brexit (likely).  Transitional, edge-of-cliff Brexit, just a light trim or cost me an arm and a leg Brexit.  Or perhaps a superciliousfragileexitexpeditingvoters Brexit. With knobs on. (Given that the knobs are driving this in the first place).

Thus, the only thing that’s a surety is a fact so simple, once you see it you wonder how you ever missed it.  It is:-

TM

_____________         = xpm

a barrel