If we don’t get REAL Brexit, call the whole thing off so we can carry on with our lives

WILL the cowards in the House of Commons please stop kicking the Brexit can down the road?

There is zero appetite in this country for a lengthy delay to Brexit. For once in their pampered lives, all those MPs need to show some spine.

Either get Brexit done or ­pronounce Brexit dead.

Theresa May’s deal? No deal? No Brexit? Choose one and do your job.

You would never guess it from all those headless ­chickens clucking at each other in the Commons, but this country is more united than it has been for YEARS.

Britain is united in wanting Brexit done!

We want to emerge from the Brexit coma and carry on with our lives.

Business needs certainty. Hard-working families want to see MPs doing something about knife crime, crowded schools, an overwhelmed NHS and a demoralized police force.

There is a housing crisis. There is an obesity epidemic. Social mobility is dying. ISIS has not gone away. ­British ex-servicemen are threatened with jail while IRA veterans stroll free.

The minds of children are ­poisoned by tax-dodging social media giant

There is a crisis in care for the elderly yet we ship ­billions in ­foreign aid to countries that have their own space programs. Suicide rates are soaring among the young.

Our democracy is disintegrating.

HEADLESS CHICKENS

So many problems. And we are talking about the next Tory leader. And we are ­talking about John ­Bercow! Not good enough.

PLEASE don’t kick the can down the road for years. That would be a grotesque dereliction of your duty.

Putting Brexit off until it dies of old age is the gutless coward’s option.

Nobody voted for Britain in a coma — not the 17.4million who voted to leave or the 16million who voted to stay. The vast majority on both sides are decent, patriotic ­people. It is time for us to come together again.

There may have been a lot of ­people in the streets of London last weekend demanding a second referendum.

But I bet there are many, many millions more who DON’T want a second referendum — simply because it would prolong the agony of the Brexit coma.

Putting Brexit off until it dies of old age is the gutless coward’s option

Tony ParsonsSun on Sunday Columnist

There is a rational argument for another vote because there is no democratic mandate for a Brexit that leaves us half in and half out of the EU.

There is no democratic mandate for Brexit in name only. There is no democratic mandate for a Brexit that is so soft and squishy that it keeps us chained to Brussels for ever.

Do you want to be a non-voting member of the EU, taking their rules but not shouting at the top table? Me neither.

I would much rather the UK stay in the EU and have Nigel Farage tripping up Jean-Claude Juncker as he staggers to the canteen for an early-morning aperitif.

I can’t speak for the rest of the 17.4million, but I have no desire for a Brexit that is not really Brexit at all.

The great prize of Brexit was our freedom to trade with the rest of the world on our own terms.

If that’s not possible, then it’s not Brexit.

WE JUST WANT IT OVER!

If MPs will not let us leave ­without a deal, and May’s deal can’t pass as she heads for the exit door of history, then the only viable option is for our elected representatives to revoke Article 50 and call the whole thing off.

MPs should not delay pulling the plug on Brexit just because they are snivelling scared-cats terrified of owning the bitter aftermath.

A lengthy delay is a cop out. A second referendum is a cop out.

Do your jobs, you pathetic, ­second-rate MPs. Do it NOW. Not in 2021.

This political paralysis is turning the greatest country in the world into an international joke. Enough.

Because our great country is being killed by the Brexit coma.

Let’s stay in and give them hell. Or let’s leave with No Deal and take our chances.

But most of all, WE JUST WANT IT OVER!

Could you budgie over a bit

THEY are calling it the greatest photobomb of all time.

Already viewed more than 20million times, a beautiful girl poses on a beach while a grinning geezer in budgie smugglers strolls obliviously in the background.
And it is perfect.

The beauty of the girl. The old man’s belly, displayed as proudly as a prize marrow at the village fete.

Those tight, tiny swimming trunks. The delighted smirk on his face.

Best of all, it doesn’t look staged. Which makes it even more perfect.

Truly a mum in a million

MOTHERING Sunday is a time for flowers, chocolates and: “Thank you, Mum.”

But if your mother is no longer with you, then it is a day for remembering. And I remember my mum today.

Emma – but always just Em – died 20 years ago next month.

I still remember her humour, her grace and the support she gave me in the darkest days of my life.

And all the laughter shared in all the many good times.

I remember her unconditional love. I remember the bravery she showed when she knew she was dying of terminal cancer.

I remember the huge turnout at her funeral.

And I remember her life, so full of family and friendship.

I remember how much she loved my dad, my son and me.

How much she loved her six brothers. How much she loved her job as a dinner lady.
My mum loved her mates in the school kitchen.

She loved the children – “my kids” – and would regularly go into the playground to break up fights, despite being just over 5ft tall.

My mum was a very militant dinner lady. She was a lifelong Labour voter and she adored going on strike.