HORSES are parading, M&S biscuits are rebranded, and Nicholas Witchell is clearing his throat. Jubilee hysteria is upon us. Here’s how to make it through:
Alcohol
Patriots drink. Churchill was pissed throughout World War Two. So it’s a celebration of the Queen’s reign to down a shot every time anyone says ‘it’s a celebration of the Queen’s reign’. The brain needs numbing to ITV’s endless loop of documentaries about every dump she’s ever has taken.
Drugs
…so when the booze isn’t doing it, augment with recreational drugs. Preferably hallucinogenic ones so you’ll forever remember the Coronation taking place on the summit of Everest and the moment Diana touched the Sceptre of Power and dissolved into snakes. It’s preferable to reality.
Vandalism
Despite your best efforts, you will have lucid moments, potentially when you hear about your child having a week’s worth of maths lessons substituted for ones on afternoon tea. So go outside, take a deep breath, and spraypaint the Royal crest on a bin. They can’t touch you for it.
Running and hiding
Even with the telly off, every inch of public space will be strangled by bunting. Every KitKat will be a Jubilee KitKat. So run away to the woods and live off nuts and berries, only to be arrested by a gamekeeper who informs you these 4,000 acres are owned by the Duchy of Cornwall.
A day off
In your lowest moments, just keep telling yourself it will all be worth it for the extra bank holiday. It will be worth it for that sweet, sweet day of paid leave, surely? Even if you do have to spend it at a patriotic steam rally?
Succumbing
If you can’t beat them, run from them, or numb your senses to them, join them. You managed patriotism during the Euros and it didn’t kill you. Go to a street party with two friends, stick red, white and blue flares up your arses and run around like a grounded Red Arrows.
