Last Sunday, Theresa May(be) signed the Brexit agreement with the European Union. Regardless of what Parliament decides, it is time to bid farewell to London and our English friends. Above: the bridges will be closed to continental ships. At long last.
“I see a red door and I want to paint it black…” Jagger and Richards will have to sell their properties on the Continent. Or apply for asylum in Italy?
The George will remain forever. And go back to selling lukewarm beer, free at last of Brussels regulations to serve beer at a shocking 4ºC. Continentals!
Twinings was established in 1706, so they don’t care.
Covent Graden: a reflection on Brexit. Nothing.
Smoking pipe will be legal again. “Inside pubs, mate?” “Yes. Mate.”
Hogarth’s Shrimp girl (c.1740) will walk the banks of the Thames again. EU directive number 3.14159 on shrimp picking will be revoked.
This building will remain anonymous. Haven’t the foggiest. My notes were seized by Customs.
Ishtar the Queen of night. Babylonia, c.1792 BC. Wardens at the British Museum claim that on some nights, a tall, grey-haired lady dressed in impossible colours comes to ask Ishtar for advice.
It is rumoured that Boris Judas Johnson is a patron at this barber shop.
What is left of the Tory government holds great hopes in securing a trade agreement with East India. A company has been set up already. (Covent Garden, 2016)
I’d always thought this was a portrait of Hélène Fourment, Rubens’ wife. Turns out this is her sister, Susanna. Quite an air of family. Portrait is called “Le chapeau de paille”, c. 1622. Title will be changed to English of course, unless… The Belgian government has asked for the restitution of all Belgian paintings before Brexit is formerly executed.
Jeremy Corbyn will keep reading Gibbon’s Roman Empire at the British Museum. For inspiration.
Ultimately all will be decided in Westminster. Worse even. (And that is a fact.) The vote will depend on a handful of MP’s. Principally the 10 Unionist MP’s from Northern Ireland, who have already voiced their opposition to the agreement. Wait, wait! 10 people will decide for 66 million Brits? Ain’t that a tad short, mate?
Regardless of the outcome, a belated thanks to young Mr Spiller, Esq. killed in action a century ago in France.
A word of caution, in this age of widespread nonsense, all but a few of the above comments are jokes. Bad jokes, maybe, but jokes all the same. Next thing you know, the Sun publishes it as “Shocking news! A Frog claims PM holds secret meetings at the British museum!”
So, my British friends, it’s not over until it’s over. Bidding you farewell and not Adieu.