I was asked in a quiz last week “What is the collective noun for lemurs?”. The answer – a conspiracy!
Got me googling and the first 3 that came up I think sums up the vicious triangular relationship between the Government (a parliament of owls), the media (a conspiracy of lemurs) and the people (a confusion of wildebeest).
So poor old owl Boris dictates from up on high – “Stay safe but for gods sake get out of your homes and spend some money”. The lemurs then scatter amongst us, filming and photographing our cock ups to feed into Piers, Susannah and Dr Hilary so they can tell us what a bunch of mindless idiots we are, and we, like the confusion of wildebeest we are, are bumping into one another without the foggiest idea which way to turn. We have seen the pictures of the crowded beaches and the jovial Liverpool celebrations which nearly resulted in the burning down of the Royal Liver Building (the irony!) and thought “What are they doing?”. But then I’m sure we are all breaking the rules in one way or another primarily because we have completely lost track of what the rules actually are.
Then the pubs open up again (AA meetings are still awaiting the go ahead).
“Max of 6 to a group, 90 mins restriction in one venue, don’t stand at the bar and keep 1 meter apart” my 18 year old daughter explained.
“And how many drinks are you allowed?” I enquired,
“As many as you can get down ya in 90 minutes”. Then head to the next bar” she said rolling her eyes.
“That might get a bit messy” I ventured
“WHATEVER” came the standard way of completing conversations in our house.
“What was crystal clear is that drunk people can’t/won’t socially distance” explained an experienced police chief. They also struggle to walk, talk or order a kebab without falling over but didn’t we know that already?!
So quiz question for this week “whats the collective noun for a group of drunk wildebeest?” –
A WHATEVER!
