Ruminations from a hospital bed #1. Tits, boobs and bollocks

The British Brexit Bus (actually a single decker coach) with new words - Breast or Bust.
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In hospital following DIEP surgery. A 9.5 hour operation that uses my own tissue to reconstruct my left breast. More than 12 years since my breast cancer, I’m no longer a right tit.

All six of the people in my ward are recovering from elective surgery. ‘Elective Surgery’ is a very strange phrase because neither word means what it should. Surgery happens in theatre not surgery, and as for ‘elective’ – where exactly was our choice? I never voted to have my left tit lopped off to stop me kicking the bucket, or to wait 7 years for a new tit that I actually liked.

None of us voted to be here. ‘Give Carole a timely post-cancer fix’ was never decided by national referendum.

Or was it..

Given what’s happened since that referendum and its misleading bus message, ‘Breast or Bust’ would have been better. ‘Boobs or Bust’ would have been more fun. To boob is just to be human. Boy did we boob over Brexit, and with the Tories too! That lot are irredeemable tits. Tits of the highest order. If they were bigger tits, their myths would already be exploded, so ‘Bust or busted’ could be a future bus slogan. Right now they’re busted, but not bang to rights.

By the time of the election my boob will be healing, a more-or-less functional part of me. Will the boobs of Tory Britain tits be exploded? Or will Brexit continue with the Great British Balls-Up. Vote carefully. Bear in mind recent history. All that will come from current great tits is a load of bollocks.







No apologies- I’m trying to post a funny a day this month as part of the process of learning how to write funny. I reserve the right to be appallingly clichéd, downright dull or basically boring in these posts, and may change, delete or replace them at any time.

The Brexit Bus with different words; 'Breast or Bust, Brexit, the great british balls-up
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