From knees-up to the cover-up – enough is enough | Emma Kay

They knew it was against the rules and they knew they could not admit it and they thought that was hilarious.

They have been lying to us while laughing at us.

The strict guidance was followed, with millions of us doing the right and honourable thing. Police raided people’s houses for having parties, do you all remember that?

But apparently, it is completely fine if you have your party at number 10. It is no small wonder the Conservative party are trying to push through a police bill that makes it practically illegal to protest against government actions as well as having the power to deport anyone, even if they were born in Britain, just because their parents were born overseas.

It seems the rules are not for those at the very top.

When we were prevented from saying goodbye to loved ones as they died from Covid, alone in hospital, they were having a knees-up, and then came the cover-up.

It was not just a one-off either, it now appears that there have been several gatherings in the echelons of power, including one within earshot of the prime minister’s flat with its donated funds for needlessly expensive wallpaper and nine grand sofa. Does Boris really expect us to believe he did not know about these get-togethers? Was he hiding behind his expensive curtains?

Boris and his followers are treating the public with total contempt, from the second job scandal and their attempt to rewrite the rules for MPs, to handing out billions in Covid contracts to their mates and donors.

This latest scandal sadly, does not come as a surprise. With the continuous reports of corruption and excuse after excuse after excuse of bumbled words, this is something we have come to associate our prime minster with. Unapologetic and unfit to govern. Constantly flouting the rules that they earnestly and willingly impose on us.

But hey, so long as they had a good time. A bit of Christmas cheer, it happened a year ago, so it doesn’t matter, right? The deaths of many have come and gone. Our pain is simply a process. We just have to put up and shut up, right? We have to follow the rules and they just have to put on a show with Boris the panto leader of them all.

Why should we trust an administration that does not follow the rules of Covid?

Boris and his party have misled the nation for their own gratification. Should he resign? What do you think?

Governments need to be held to account.

Wedding cake tasting delivers a handy metaphor for life

There was a definitive difference in the way my fiancé and I tasted and tested our wedding cake choices.

Probably one of the most looked forward to parts of our wedding was the excuse to give in to our sweet teeth.

I took a small nibble from each sample, leaving some so I could go back and taste again to compare the flavours.

My fiancé engulfed the entire lot straight away, and immediately pointed to the chocolate peppermint and red velvet saying: ‘That’s the one’.

I envied his ability to make decisions so readily. But in all honesty, his chosen flavours did complement each other exceedingly well. Perhaps we all ought to not stress over small details so much in our lives and go with our gut.

Floored by something as common as the common cold

My bedroom floor looks like scrunched up snow, but it’s far from festive.

I have a tissue issue. It’s hard not to be disgusting if you have a cold. The smell of Vicks perfumes. I feel grotty, snotty and suitably drained.

Being shouldered with the common cold has meant my functionality has taken a massive hit when it never used to. So why so rough this time?

In lockdown I simply didn’t catch a cold. I never ventured anywhere or saw anyone outside of my home and work bubble. Not having a cold for two years, I had forgotten how it feels like being a mushy cauliflower with a red nose.

There is nothing left to do but embrace something as common as the common cold.

A message from the editor, Mark Waldron.

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Floored by something as common as the common cold

My bedroom floor looks like scrunched up snow, but it’s far from festive.

I have a tissue issue.

It’s hard not to be disgusting if you have a cold. The smell of Vic perfumes the air and makes my fiancés eyes water like chopping an onion. I feel grotty, snotty and suitably drained.

Being shouldered with the common cold has meant my functionality has taken a massive hit when it never used to. So why so rough this time? In lockdown I simply didn’t catch a cold. I never ventured anywhere or see anyone outside of my home and work bubble. Not having a cold for 2 years I had forgotten how it feels like being a mushy cauliflower with a red nose.

A spree of sanitising and wiping down has made my immune system take a hit. There is nothing left to do but embrace something as common as the common cold.

Wedding cake tasting provides a handy metaphor for life

There was a definitive difference in the way my fiancé and I tasted and tested our wedding cake choices.

The cake samples looked light and spongy. Probably one of the most looked forward to parts of our wedding was the excuse to give in to our sweet teeth.

I took a small nibble from each sample to make a comparison, leaving some so I could go back and taste again to compare the flavours.

My fiancé engulfed the entire lot straight away, giving rise to my despair. Though to his credit he immediately pointed to the chocolate peppermint and red velvet and said, ‘That’s the one’.

I envied his ability to make decisions so readily. But in all honesty, his chosen flavours did complement each other exceedingly well. Perhaps we all ought to not stress over small details so much in our lives and go with our gut.