Britain is a retired man in his sixties who thinks the Indian in the 24 Hour Convenience Store is out to get him. He smokes three cigarettes a day, spent six weeks making a doll house for his grand-daughter and cried at the end of Marley & Me. He'll take both secrets to his grave.
Britain is nine Romanian seasonal workers and an itinerant Englishman and all nine look up to the Englishman because he can keep up with the others, which is rare. And because they feel guilty, which is statistically unwarranted according to records from the Migration Advisory Committee.
Britain is me mentioning these statistics in a seasoned debate with a military veteran who has a cropped Facebook wallpaper of the Union flag who dismisses me out of hand because I'm twenty-six and too young to know about these things, but he thinks I'm a great kid, honestly, just don't get in the way.
Britain is the third kid in the trenchcoat, standing on the shoulders of Wales who is standing on the shoulders of Ireland. They're all trying to get into the cinema that's showing a Michael Bay film that's the third in the six part saga of a remake of a remake.
Britain is sitting on a sofa that's been flytipped and taking pictures of yourself.
Britain is drinking cider underage.
Britain is drinking whiskey from an old armchair in front of a bookshelf that contains many musty leather tomes which hopefully contain ancient wisdoms to current problems but as time goes on we're starting to worry they're just decoration.
Britain is drinking whenever it's sunny outside.
Britain is drinking quite a lot and we should probably be concerned but we're not really.
Britain is an eighty year old rich woman wearing designer clothing who gets her hair done every week. Britain is when she tells me her husband has advanced dementia and becomes angry and upset, so she tries to get out of the house as often as she can because that's not her husband who's there during that time.
Britain is lonely.
Britain is passing a charger cable extension to another household, plugging it in and throwing it across the open air into the opposite flat because Mr Smith has chosen to have gas over electricity this month.
Britain is joking about industrial cladding.
Britain is joking about 80's children's entertainers.
Britain is joking about the Government cuts.
Britain could have a loaded gun pointed at it and it just wouldn't stop laughing.
Britain is also angry.
Britain is The Windrush Generation and the people who spoke out against it, even when it spelt political suicide. Especially when it did.
Britain is a Bulgarian man telling a Pakistani woman that she's being discriminatory towards a person who's English but is neither a man or a woman.
Britain doesn't really get that part. Britain says do whatever makes you happy and isn't illegal or hurting anyone or a pathway to becoming a politician. "You do you, mate." says Britain.
Britain is two roadmen with shaved eyebrows discussing Star Trek and World of Warcraft.
Britain is difficult, complex, easy, duplicitous, weird, counter-intuitive, normal, logical, fallacious, honest and, above all, will never have good weather no matter what.
And Britain, in my opinion, is the best country in the world.
