I’m a member of a Facebook group for people who own a certain home draft beer dispenser. They work with special kegs which are imported from the EU.
It's worth being a member for the sheer beauty of the current fume.
Previously you could order a wider range of beer kegs more cheaply than was available in the UK, by going direct to EU outlets. Simples, place order on internet, courier delivers, happy drunken days.
Now the pesky forrens have given UK orders the big swerve and said, “can’t be arsed with all that export paperwork and VAT malarkey monsieur”.
The resulting fume level, as measured on the new (Imperial) Farage - Francois Fume scale, is quickly ramping up through mildly irritated, completely jarred off and approaching boils my piss angry, levels.
This mixture of outrage and stoic Dunkirk spirit is generating various alternative solutions, such as suggestions that everyone start drinking kegs of British brewed, Ye Olde Badger’s Spaff, at room temperature, in protest, rather than chilled Stella. It’s fair to say this option ain’t exactly hitting the spot for most.
The level of disconnect between individuals, who from their expressed views, clearly voted for Brexit, but are now surprised and angered at the practical implications, suggests that the most basic meaning of Brexit (means Brexit) may not have been universally understood and appreciated at the time of the vote.
Perhaps there is now a growing realisation that membership of the EU wasn’t just an abstract ideological arrangement, involving the complete surrender of sovereignty, payment of extortionate membership fees and the dictatorial imposition of rules on banana shapes.
