Diary of a Somebody

Monday 24th August 2037

Life seems interminable at times, dealing with all these petty-fogging concerns. Global Britain may have shrunk to within a whisker of the Westminster Bubble, but plague and famine dog my footsteps. We must have this new drone, but the Treasury is besieged by health and unemployment. I can see why they call this the Silly Season. It hasn’t rained for five years to speak of, and the desalination plants are way behind schedule and costs have soared. We desperately need the water to put out the New Forest Fire, if nothing else. Inflation’s hopeless, as is Dominic, but I’ve changed chancellors three times in as many months. To hell with the cost! I’m going to have a large glass of imported Scotch.

Tuesday 25th August 2037

My bodyguard’s got shingles and the roof seems to be collapsing on my head. It’s time to make my presence felt on the world stage. Perhaps something about the Amazon, though there’s precious little left of that since the Bolsanaros even with Prime. The boffins have come up with this idea to sow the seas with green algae to mop up the CO2 and I think that’s something I could champion. My £3 a month to the WWF doesn’t seem to go far. The Cornish separatists are becoming a real nuisance and they’ve got the British space program. Maybe a tax cut on Cornish pasties?

Wednesday 26th August 2037

The party is very fractious even in the absence of a legal opposition. The iron fist in the velvet glove approach doesn’t seem to be working. Perhaps it’s time to show the citizens of Tunbridge Wells ‘the river Tiber foaming with much blood’, or in their case, the river Teise pronounced tice to rhyme with lice. It’s amazing how worked up people can get about a hose pipe ban. Since the secession of the pro-abortion states in America, the western world looks to me for strong leadership and I’ll be damned if I’m going to bend the knee to the French, especially since they made their language official throughout the European empire. But the rumours are that Putin has been cryogenically frozen and the Russians continue to press on every hand. Since the fall of Taiwan, China controls the world supply of semi-conductors which we desperately need for our cyber security. What a fucking pickle!

Thursday 27th August 2037

I think the podcast went well, very statesmanlike. Particularly pleased with, ‘We will fight sewage on the beaches!’ Today’s Warmington-on-Sea Home Guard have got a pretty shitty job, but it’s all down to Johnny Foreigner’s shareholders.