The stages of election grief, explained by Peep Show
Trump is so not rainbow rhythms
Let it never be said that there exists a facet of life Peep Show does not sum up perfectly.
Jez and Mark’s struggles with the mundane speak to the deepest recesses of our selves. Reality can be cruel, bleak, and brutal, and at no time is that more apparent than now, as we stand face to face with President-elect, Donald “Grab em by the pussy” Trump.
Grief is often hard to comprehend. For those who braved the whole night, coming to terms with America’s choice happened not all at once, but bit by agonising bit. It’s a confusing time. Let Jez and Mark’s wisdom wash over you as you search your soul, trying to make sense of what you’ve been through.
Polls don’t mean anything, you tell yourself.
Clinton’s still got this you know, if she wins every state left. They haven’t even counted all the votes. I bet this is a prank. Chance would be a fine thing.
A fine thing indeed.
Fucking America. They ruined our language and now they’re fucking the planet. Wear a tie and stop prancing round in your computer world, Jeremy Vine. You’re the worst Vine brother.
I’m not even American and I want to move to Canada. I’ll camp on the desolate arctic tundra, it’s Disneyland compared to this shit.
Just don’t end up in Windsor.
Then it dawns on you. It’s actually happening. The BBC have called it. Twitter’s full of liars and semi-literate keyboard monkeys, but this is Andrew Neil. Good old Neil, he’d never lie to you. The poor man’s Paxman delivering a hard hitting dose of pure, shit-soaked facts.
President-elect Donald Trump, the worst four words since ‘rail replacement bus service’.
You finally embark on your day, into the inescapable new world.
Which is just the same world. But worse. Tickety boo.