Brenda’s Not So Unfortunate Record #36


I’m like the kid who forgot to do her homework. Last night I was sat with a 12 year old trying to coax him into tucking in to his Mandarin assignment. It’s not like I could be much help, but was still egging him along, stern but fair so as not to lose the fight completely. I should have been using the same tactics on myself. 

Decided I’d wait until the results were certain to start typing. Not like I wanted to believe the polls, but in the event of total doom and gloom maybe I didn’t actually have to say anything. I could just chose a dark, dark track and let it speak for itself, exceptional circumstances and all. But now with this slightly different scenario, I’m having to rethink the strategy. 

How does one articulate ‘unfortunateness’ when a bit one’s faith has been restored? Hmmmm. You don’t? So we’re still gonna shove grumpy personal anecdotes to the side this week. Might be off-piste but lately we’ve been drowning in words, and some really ugly ones at that.

I’m gonna hand it over to Mr. Baby Ford close my eyes and visualise a smug face, sinking down and disappearing into an endless field of wheat. She might still be here but there’s definitely a whiff of change in the air. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. 

And yes …. fuck the tabloids, fuck the establishment and love to you all. 


Clap, clap, clap to all the people I know who were out hammering the streets til the wee hours in distant suburbs. And to everyone printing t shirts, making artwork, hosting events, generally getting out there … done us proud. 

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