I ran away from Atlantis long before it sank into the Irish Sea, and came to live in London. Maybe I’ve always thought of London as unsinkable, like that big boat people go on about, but then they elected a new captain who frankly seems to have iceberg written all over him. A tiger ate my old country and a moron is going to eat my new one.  So I spend a lot of time shouting at the news, trying to choose between the iniquities of the horrific and the inane, deciding which is more worthy of vitriol, and wondering when any of this is going to inspire some worthwhile comedy.

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