The end started way before all this corona palaver.
How it came to be that a serial communicator like myself should end up here.
64 years old, with only you lot for company. And now even you guys have mostly gone! Desserters! Disappearing hour by hour.
Look at these programmes! Wrighty’s hat-trick v Ipswich. Getting home it was nothing but “where you been Harry? Who you been seeing?” Like the bloody Gestapo she was.
Look at this! From when we supported Riot Firm at Brixton Academy 1985, girl cut off her ponytail and gave it me, here it is look. She was a stunner too, I could have, I should have, would have saved mucho grief. If you know what I mean?
What else you got in your little drawer of delights Harry? I ‘ear you ask. Well come on fellas, act respectful or you know what’ll happen next. It’ll be curtains for one or other of you!!
Billy the dragon! Crusted up with hair gel! I loved Billy the Dragon! Conned it off me brother when I was 9 and he was 4. Derek never forgave me. Teased him about it for years. Became our stage mascot!
If you start with the bravado you gotta keep it up! The analogy you’d understand is that you gotta look like you wouldn’t dissolve if I dunked you. I never dissolved, never. If you are Harry Harsh, punk rock icon, leader of the gang, you gotta walk the walk, act the part.
That’s why with all that solicitor stuff, I went for sole custody, bring them kids up free, proper kids, in my own image, not like Jonathan the Guardian remoaner, her new fella. Yeah, I laughed long on referendum night. Now Alfie’s probably a transgender-pooftah or something, world’s gone mad.
“I wonder where your sweet side went Harry, you used to be a decent bloke” was her last words as she walked off with the lot.
But that’s the problem, I had to choose. To make decisions. To protect them as much as me.
I’m me own man, true to my beliefs, through mates taking her side, through the band fucking off cos I wouldn’t put em in the writing credits. Through me heart attack. Now into lockdown………….and islolation.
And I won’t get online cos I ain’t giving fucking Bill Gates the pleasure!! My world has become old posters and shouting at the Telly. No one has phoned to ask how I am!
Now I’ve got one more decision to make.
There are so few of you left! Just two remaining loyal soldiers. I’ve taken you out the packet and laid you out, like you’re on parade. So which one of you will it be?
Corporal Chocolate! Captain Oats! Stand to attention! No slacking.
One per every hour was the decision, when you are gone your gone and after that so will I be. Well I ain’t going out for more in a fucking pandemic, am I? Corporal Chocolate! You shall be remembered!
Then it will be just me and Captain Oats. One more hour. Just the two of us. Butch and Sundance, Thelma and Louise! Age will not weary you, even if it’s a bit late for me. From whence we have come, we shall return!