How to celebrate St George's Day if you absolutely must

DETERMINED to celebrate St George’s Day even though you can’t explain why or what it all means? Here’s how to honour our Greek or maybe Palestinian national saint.

Only wave a little flag

Flags are becoming increasingly problematic symbols, so you’ll want to go for one of those little ones you put on sandcastles. Ideally it should be where nobody can see it and get offended, so think about flying it in a wardrobe or cellar. Don’t under any circumstances put one on your car, mainly because it looks naff.

Donate to a dragon sanctuary

This will be tricky because giant winged lizards that spout flames don’t exist. Komodo dragons are close enough though, so sling a few quid their way for peace of mind. It’s the least you can do to make up for the time St George ran a lance through one, which definitely happened.

Hum ‘Jerusalem’ quietly to yourself

This hymn with lyrics written by William Blake is much better than the national anthem, although to be fair that isn’t difficult. Hum it to yourself at low volume while looking at a picture of the White Cliffs of Dover to feel maximum pride for our green and pleasant land. Do not get carried away and sing ‘Rule Britannia’.

Think about Shakespeare

Shakespeare knew St George was a symbol of English greatness, that’s why he mentioned him in a famous speech in Henry V. It’s quite long and doesn’t make a lot of sense though, so instead of reading it just think random thoughts about our renowned playwright, like: ‘Wasn’t his ruff silly?’

Go Morris dancing

What could be a more dignified way of showing your patriotism than prancing around waving handkerchiefs and clacking sticks together? Morris dancing has become a traditional highlight of St George’s Day, so get in touch with your local troupe to see if they’ve got any vacancies. Spoiler alert: they will be absolutely desperate for new blood.

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The disappointing revenge plots of Dominic Cummings

I MAY look like a Bond villain but since my big revenge on Boris was a few leaked texts, I’m clearly one from the Timothy Dalton films. Here’s what’s next:

The Ivy bill scandal

Oh yes, I’ve kept the receipts Boris. And my records clearly show that, even when dining with colleagues much more intelligent than you, you claimed it was fair to ‘split the bill’ even though you’d had two bottles of Chablis, a starter, a pudding and the cheese board. This will ruin you.

Gimpgate

Didn’t see the little red light on my phone, did you? Didn’t realise it was recording the conversation where you called Michael Gove a wannabe sex gimp without the courage to rubber up, then made him come in and dance for us like a broken little puppet. Britain will be outraged at your disrespect.

I deleted your memoir

Remember that big Boris memoir you were drafting? Your life’s work? Well, first I hacked into your computer and changed every mention of Boris to ‘wanker’ but then I decided to go even further and I deleted the whole thing! Overwrote it completely! Now you’ll never write it, and will just get a ghostwriter to do all the hard work instead then not pay them.

Exposed as a love rat

The country believes you only began shagging Princess Nut Nut when you were estranged from your wife, but we know the truth don’t we Boris? Oh yes. You were unfaithful for two months in violation of all the church’s teachings and I have the texts to prove it. There’s no way the Conservative party will let you survive this.

The Brexit lie

I’ve been keeping my little insurance policies right from the start because I’m a genius like Zuckerberg, Oppenheimer or Lex Luthor. And I’ve got you recorded saying that Brexit is nonsense, the British people will never vote for it, and you only joined Leave to raise your profile and piss off Swotty Dave. Actually you know full well Brexit is bad for Britain. Boom. Minds blown.

I ‘top-decked’ Downing Street

You would never have had the freewheeling, unfettered imagination to think of this, or the high IQ, but I crapped in the Downing Street cistern. Yes that’s right. For the last six months every time you’ve flushed it’s been contaminated with faecal matter from I, Dom, the true victor in the 2019 election. Ha. Who’s the winner now?

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