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Jan Moir Were All In This Together Right Aside From The Arrogant And Arrogant

We’re in this together.

Since the early days of the pandemic, when we first squared our shoulders, started collecting toilet rolls, and began spying on our neighbors with enthusiasm, thermal binoculars, and a time-stamped electronic notebook in hand, that has been the official refrain.

Was it just me, or was it something else?

Yet, except for the last packet of spaghetti on the store rack, we’re still all in it together.

Or breaking curfews while no one is watching.

Being a government minister and/or adviser, for example.

Being a part of the crony-demic gang nowadays appears to imply that you can break any rule you choose, including ones you made yourself.

Whatever happens, dish it out but don’t accept it!

Your country relies on you to perform exactly what is asked of you.

As the ruling class continues to do what they like,

Michael Gove travelled to Portugal for a football match, but avoided quarantine by participating in a secret swabbing trial when he returned.

Being a part of the crony-demic gang nowadays appears to imply that you can break any rule you choose, including ones you made yourself.

Instead of self-isolating for 10 days like the rest of the mugs, Michael Gove travelled to Portugal for a football match and avoided quarantine by participating in a secret swabbing trial.

Such a delightful coincidence and convenience for senior Conservatives who must go overseas to watch important football matches featuring their favorite teams in fixtures that have nothing to do with the business of government that Downing Street was picked as one of the workplaces to sample this new plan that no one has ever heard of; a simply lovely coincidence and convenience for senior Conservatives who must travel abroad to watch important football matches featuring their favorite teams in fixtures that have nothing to do with the business of government that Downing Street was chosen as one of the workplaces to trial this new

Hidden swabbing, which sounds like a clandestine cleaning job on the HMS Pinafore, could be a perfectly legal approach to evaluate safe alternatives to isolation.

Yet, that is not how it appears, and optics are becoming increasingly important.

The last thing pandemic-weary folks want right now is the threat of yet another strife-swerving exemption for the wealthy, as the rest of us continue up the Covid Khyber, quietly despairing as the deranged NHS app pinged over half a million individuals last week, the vast majority of whom had nothing wrong with them.

One would think the government would have gotten the word about elitism by now, but alas, no.

Our entitled ruling class continues to act like Soviet officials of old, sequestering all the imperial-class caviar reserves and vacation dachas for themselves, while the uncomplaining proles toil in unlit smelting furnaces, praying for a Freedom Day that never comes.

Look at us, double-masked and super-obedient, our hands raw from high-alcohol sanitisers, fostering geysers of inner wrath that threaten to erupt at any moment.

How much longer can we stand it?

Mrs Flirty is put on the government payroll by Matt Hancock, who subsequently violates his own Covid guidelines by having an affair with her.

How much longer can we stand it?

Dominic Cummings departs from London when he is not meant to, and his following eye-testing jaunt to Barnard Castle becomes a bitter national comedy Matt Hancock puts Mrs Flirty on the public payroll and then defies his own Covid rules to have an affair with her Dominic Cummings flees from London when he is not supposed to, and his later eye-testing jaunt to Barnard Castle becomes a bitter national joke

Businesses with government ties benefit from lucrative PPE relationships.

Queues are bypassed, bargains are struck, and limits are disregarded; simply sign here.

The government repeatedly conveys the sense that there is one set of rules for them and another set for us, an attitude that unfortunately begins to pervade the social order.

Panic buying was more likely to be connected with women living in higher-income households with children, according to a Sheffield University study examining early-stage pandemic behavior.

It was obvious to me!

Mummies Yummy

The women who are most likely to blame for all of society’s woes (and even if they aren’t, let’s blame them anyway)

If it meant little Arlo and Octavia didn’t get their Miki House booties wet on the way to Tumble Tots, Yummy Mummies would park their SUV on your cat in my part of West London.

You’d have a greater chance of surviving a shark attack if you got between Yum-Mums and their Bugaboos in the dairy aisles of Waitrose.

But, as scientists point out, we are all just animals in the pandemic jungle.

During times of crisis, such selfish behavior and “foraging survival methods” appear to be totally natural.

People are becoming increasingly frustrated by the minor constraints on our freedoms as Freedom Day approaches, a tantalizing mirage on the horizon.

But I’m sure we’d be able to deal with it a lot better if we were all in it together.

Is the Prime Minister honestly convinced that the British people will swallow all of the aristocratic crap he tolerates and still vote for him?

Boris, our patience is wearing thin.

Long Lost Family (ITV1), which returned this week, is a poignant elegy to the secrets of real lives. Nothing on television cuts right to the heart of the human condition quite like it.

Notwithstanding the plinky emo piano music and Davina McCall’s rage, this is the most sincere and emotional show on television.

Where else can you see ordinary folks being themselves and pouring their hearts out in the privacy of their own homes?

The principle is straightforward.

In their search for missing ancestors, Davina and guest host Nicky Campbell (himself adopted) assist family members.

Parents seek children, boys and daughters seek mothers and fathers, and siblings call into the canyon, hoping for a return echo from a sibling to ensure they are not alone.

Long Lost Family (ITV1), which premiered this week, is the only show on television that gets right to the heart of the human experience.

Notwithstanding the plinky emo piano music and Davina McCall’s wrath, this is the most genuine and affecting show on television. What lies underlying each unique narrative is separation and buried hurt; shame and remorse; identity and belonging.

It’s about family love and family secrets, and every plain and honest face that appears reflects both.

This week, John Hacking, a quarry worker from Buxton, Derbyshire, was reunited with his birth mother Maureen, who lives in Sheerness, Kent, at the age of 77.

Because Maureen claimed she was desperate, he had been left in a pram in the rain, to be discovered by the neighbors who raised him.

As they met, he said, ‘Hello Mother,’ two words laden with more than half a century of agony.

There’s a sense that there’s more to these stories than what we see on film.

Long Lost Family, on the other hand, is a touching elegy to the decay of secrets and the strength of love.

The writing is on the wall for Fergie Sarah, Duchess of York, knows she can count on me to lend a helping hand with whatever her newest business may be.

When she launched Budgie The Tiny Helicopter, I was there with my rotors whirling.

For her diet tea campaign, I was there with the kettle.

When she began her exclusive Storytime With Fergie And Friends series on YouTube, I put on my best Jackanory face.

And now I’m back in the literary rafters, cheering her on as she releases her first novel for grownups.

Lady Margaret Montagu Douglas Scott, a distant ancestor, is the protagonist of Her Heart For A Compass, a coming-of-age story.

Sarah, Duchess of York, knows she can count on me to lend a sympathetic ear to whatever her latest enterprise may be. Who is she?

It doesn’t matter.

Our girl was in full froth at an interview for an American magazine to promote the book.

‘Everyone takes you for a big hurricane when you have a sense of humour and you’re a redhead,’ she remarked.

‘But you don’t always want to be the storm,’ says the author, and we don’t always want to be caught in the storm, either.

But who was she referring to?

Do you know who Ronald McDonald is?

No, it’s her.

‘The spirit of the book, Sarah, is there,’ she explained.

‘Old Fergie’s also there,’ says the narrator.

But Sarah is truly present.’ I’m concerned that Ferg is spending too much time with Meghan, duchess to duchess, discussing their time in the spotlight.

York admitted that she had an ‘extraordinary dread of getting it wrong’ in the royal family, possibly to Sussex.

‘Being Sarah is enough,’ she realizes now.

Is that true?

I doubt Prince Philip (RIP) would agree with you.

Reduce meat consumption by a third, tax sugar and salt, and then educate the turnips how to prepare vegetables?

The gist of a new report by Downing Street’s food tsar, Henry Dimbleby, is that it was all a waste of time and money.

Before anyone has had a chance to really digest Dim’s snack tax plans, the government has already signaled that they will be rejected.

‘I must admit, I’m not drawn to the concept of imposing additional taxes on industrious people,’ Boris stated Wednesday.

One can see where he’s coming from.

Mr. Dimbleby, co-founder of the Leon restaurant chain, is recommending fruit, vegetables, and cooking instruction for the poor, with the latter being supported by the planned new’snack tax.’

We’ve been here before, so good luck with that.

Jamie Oliver tried to humiliate Turkish Twizzler addicts while pushing lettuce wraps and other healthy snacks, but it’s devilishly tough to detach people from their bad habits in the real world.

I recall when supermarkets in Glasgow tenement estates didn’t sell a single fresh vegetable; even potatoes were canned.

And this in a country that produces over four million tonnes of potatoes.

Because the alternatives are so cheap and accessible, entire generations have been weaned off cooking.

Deliveries, takeout meals, and ready-made meals from the supermarket chill cabinet are all high in salt and sugar, and may have less nutritional value than the plastic in which they are packaged.

All of this is a never-ending stream of poor habits and convenience.

It’s a good idea to teach people how to cook, but how do you create a culture that encourages them to do so?

Jan’s Lonely Hearts Dating Agency is my new lockdown business where I strive to matchmake the lovelorn, lonely, and unhappy.

Ladies, allow me to introduce you to Charlie Perry, my newest customer.

Charlie is the stuff of legends: a roofer and England supporter who drank 20 cans of Strongbow and ‘banged a load of powder’ before being pictured with a lighted firework blazing between his bare buttocks ahead of the Euro 2020 final this week.

‘It didn’t hurt since I was so intoxicated,’ said the man, who was also sporting a PS545 Louis Vuitton bucket hat and a stag night tattoo on his bottom.

Virtually all of these indicators may alarm sensitive blind daters, but Charlie is a keeper with a GSOH and WLTM that one woman who would make his life perfect and help him fill his sinks, or whatever it is he does with all that powder.

If you’re interested, please send me your contact information.

And if you do decide to light Charlie’s blue touch paper, remember to keep a safe distance away.

Jan’s Lonely Hearts Dating Agency is my new lockdown business where I strive to matchmake the lovelorn, lonely, and unhappy.

Ladies, allow me to introduce you to Charlie Perry, my newest customer.

Charlie is the dream — a roofer and England supporter who drank 20 cans of Strongbow and ‘banged a bunch of powder’ before being snapped with a lighted firework blazing away between his bare buttocks ahead of the Euro 2020 final this week Migrants come by the boatload on the beaches of southern England; without a single police officer in sight

Wembley Stadium devolves into a battleground, with rampant unruly behavior and hundreds of supporters surging in without tickets; police maintain it’s not their concern.

An environmental campaign group dumps a lorry load of plastic rubbish outside Downing Street, and the police appear unconcerned.

It could be gelignite, boys! Migrants come by the boatload on the beaches of southern England; there isn’t a cop in sight.

Not a bovver

Meanwhile, a law-abiding schoolgirl is forced to isolate after testing positive, and a national emergency is declared.

Kathryn Crook was taken aback when police arrived in a riot van with a throng to check that her 12-year-old daughter Charlotte was self-isolating on two occasions.

She claims her youngster was “terrified,” and she now wants the Greater Manchester Police Service and Rochdale public health officials to apologize for the “overkill.”

That’s possible.

Nevertheless, when it comes to public safety, certainly overload is preferable to underpowered.

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