It’s the thought that counts with Brexit gifts | Stewart Lee

Thank you, all my aunts, for the rabies vaccine, zombie knives and baked beans. They’re going in the Anderson shelter for the coming no-deal carnageThe new year slips in, tailgating quietly through the closing crack of the old, and the elderly Brexit-voting racist relatives you tolerated through gritted skull over the festive season, their presence turning Christmas into a three-dimensional LBC phone-in, to be survived only by the anaesthetic of alcohol, have departed.But blood is thicker