Panic on the Shelves

Thanks to moronic panic buyers my shopping today turned into an odyssey, as I've had to waste time this evening traipsing around multiple supermarkets in an attempt to pick up my regular stuff.  Really, it is absolutely ridiculous - shelves stripped bare of goods for no good reason.  Why the obsession with buying toilet roll?  Last time I checked, the symptoms of Covid-19 didn't include shitting yourself to death.  But why have people suddenly gone so crazy?  I mean, everything was normal shopping-wise here in Crapchester over the weekend, but today: utter madness.  Personally, I blame the TV.  Or rather the sort of morons who build their entire lives around what they see on TV - they saw stories about panic buying on the news over the weekend, so decided that they should go out and panic buy as well.  Oh, and The Sun has to take its share of the blame - I saw their front page telling readers that their hero Boris Johnson had advised the stockpiling of basic foodstuffs.  But what's the government going to do about these panic buying morons?  That's what I want to know.  It's all very well going on about how they are going to 'Get Brexit Done' and stick it to those French fishermen stealing 'our' fish, but that doesn't cut any ice when you can't even buy a tin of tuna fish because of panic buying (apparently on the advice of the Prime Minister).  Frankly, I think that they need to take a tough line on panic buyers - treat them like looters and shoot them on sight.  I know that might sound harsh, but believe me, once people find that being caught with twenty rolls of toilet paper in your shopping trolley can result in summary execution, they'll soon calm down.

And while I'm ranting - how gratifying it was to hear Boris Johnson being greeted with cries of 'Traitor' when he finally condescended to visit one of the areas hit by floods.  Apparently someone also told him to 'do your fucking job.'  Are the scales finally falling from the eyes of Britain's electorate with regard to this buffoon?  Finally dawning on them that he and his ilk don't give a shit about the masses now that they've got their votes?  Don't worry, by the time of the next election the saps will be voting for him again.  The cries of 'Traitor', though, give me hope that I can maybe get my chant of 'String him up!' going every time Johnson appears in public.  That and getting people waving life size effigies of his head on poles, shouting 'Behold, the head of a traitor!'  With luck, it might put the wind up the fat slob.  Talking of fat slobs, that orange tub of lard in the White House has been demonstrating his ignorance of the whole Covid-19 business.  Still, the good news is that one of the delegates at the recent Nazi rally he attended has tested positive for coronavirus - with any luck he will have infected Trump and the rest of the Ku Klux Klan who were in attendance and they'll all die horribly.  After all, they are all in the high risk group: old men with anger management and blood pressure problems. 

Hell, I seem to do nothing but write about coronavirus these days - but it's in the news all the time and creeping closer to me.  In fact, it has now arrived in Crapchester.  Which is a cause of concern for me: thanks to being both diabetic and on medication for high blood pressure, I'm in one of the high risk groups likely to suffer worse symptoms if I get it.  Consequently, I'm keen to avoid Covid-19.  Not that my employer is likely to do anything to decrease my risks of exposure: their recent disregard for my health has left me quite genuinely considering walking out.  It has taken two years of hard work for me to get my health back to a semblance of normality - avoiding unnecessary stress has been key to this recovery, yet of late all the measures agreed upon with managers to manage my stress at work have been reneged upon.  Consequently, I'm left feeling tired, angry and stressed.  I'm really not prepared to have my health wrecked again by the very people who destroyed it in the first place, (although they are still reluctant to acknowledge the role excessive work-related stress played in my health problems).  But enough moaning - it's just that the world seems to be collapsing into shit all around, isn't there some kind of opt out?  Another present we could choose to live in, instead?  Until one materialises, I really need to de-stress and hopefully get back to the more placid waters of exploitation films and obscure pop culture.