Breixt

Well, it’s currently panto season in the UK. Across the country, old Royal Shakespeare Society Actors actors, Home and Away stars and failed Big Brother contestants are squeezing into shopworn tights in the "dressing-room" (bogs) of the Theatre Royal Scroggington and such. They're learning the new Donald Trump jokes  ("Repulsive, let down your hair," [orange toupee floats down] "It is the best hair, the most beautiful hair...") and wondering how the hell they ended up here. 

So too are the great British public contemplating Brexit, and suddenly realising that it is this year, THIS YEAR, on the March 29. That’s TEN WEEKS AWAY. There’s no withdrawal agreement in place as ratified by parliament, no guarantee of an exit delay if one is not put in place, and no idea what will happen should a no-deal crash-out occur. Clap your hands if you believe, children.