by 
After last night’s world cup semi-final defeat, England is too hungover and miserable to do any fucking work today, it has emerged.
With hearts that feel like they’ve been stamped on by a Croation football boot, and heads that feel like they’ve been repeatedly booted around a football pitch, England just cannot be arsed today.
Simon Williams, an employee of a Warrington based widget firm is typical of the nation as he stares blankly at a computer monitor.
“Yeah,” he croaks at us between swigs of Lucozade, “technically I should be updating the Bognor account, which I vaguely remember will involve typing numbers into some daft, bloody spreadsheet or something, but today I just don’t feel like it.
“It just all just seems so empty and pointless somehow.
“And besides,” he adds, turning his bloodshot eyes back to a blank monitor, “I can’t even be arsed remembering how to turn my computer on.”
When asked if he’s worried that his boss might complain, Simon barks a mirthless laugh.
“Emma? No fucking chance. Last I saw she was lying on her keyboard sobbing, and surrounded by freshly popped pain-killers and half a bag of cheesey wotsits.”
Simon sighs, “It feels like it was all some wonderful dream snatched away from us. But even the sunshine couldn’t be arsed showing up today. Three weeks of blue-sky and now it’s raining again.”
Simon suddenly clutches his stomach.
“Now you might want to get out of the way,” he says, “because it’s twenty steps to the bogs and I don’t think I can even be bothered going that far to puke.”
