Patriotism Gone Mad?
No, this isn't a political rant (for once). I got stamped on during a tackle in football training today and the result was this beauty.
It doesn't hurt as much as it looks but it was bothering me for some reason. Why did it make me think of something else? So I twisted my leg round and took photos (yes, my leg is as narcissistic as I am) and looked on in realistation.
Oh yes, it's not just a wound, it's an affirmation of the country I grew up in, the nation where my mother was born, the land which gave the world crumpets, moaning and the spaghetti junction. A land of rain, grumbling and mild fog on summer mornings. A land where cows run free until they get BSE or tipped by bored rural children.
A land where taxi drivers have more opinions than government does and where badly written newspapers captivate millions with the simple application of tits. A land where we can all live together in mild distrust and animosity.Our national heros, we salute the great Britons like Sven Goran Eriksson, Terry Wogan, Ross from Friends and Ferne Cotton.
I salute it with my leg, a BRITISH leg, a patriotic leg. Stand up and be counted (cos I can't cos my leg hurts).
Still at least it's not celebrating my Irish roots as an orange and green leg would be a concern...