A picture from the skit that made me ashamed to be British pictured last night
As the editor of a highly- ignored satirical magazine, there’s not much that makes me ashamed to be British. However, when I read this skit earlier, I felt like tearing up my passport and applying for Australian citizenship. I don’t mind admitting that I blubbed shamelessly from start to finish, in a mixture of impotent rage and a deep soul-obliterating shame. My anguish was compounded even further because I had written it not 10 minutes previously.
Can I ask you most humbly to read this from a compassionate and caring angle and not from the standpoint of some despicable foreign fuck.Thank you.
PS. Could I also ask you to leave a small comment after you’ve read the piece. Only I’ve been feeling pretty low these last weeks and it’s only been the comments that you good folk have made on my work that have kept me from doing something rash. Only last night I was teetering precariously on the platform at London Bridge station, preparing to throw myself under the 22.50 to East Croydon, when my phone “dinged” and informed me of a particularly irritating and time-consuming, platitude from some annoying sap in Idaho or similar. I immediately felt a joyous surge of new-found joi -de-vivre course through my veins and went straight down the pub. I’m therefore thanking you in anticipation my friends, and I give you my solemn assurance that each comment will be read repeatedly until the dark, smothering blanket of despair leaves me and I go down the pub again.