Following their ‘world cup’ victory, triumphant Spaniolo player Jenni Hermoso hugged her FA President Luis Rubiales, lifted him legs akimbo aloft while the hapless prez reciprocally offered a lips-on kiss to the hopeless lez.

Big deal.

Apparently, a veritable shitstorm has now engulfed women’s football as he hadn’t filed a notarised consent document prior to reciprocating.

What a load of horseshit – and I’m not just talking about the match or the tournament.

She’s had worse things in contact with her mouth in the last ten years, I’m sure.

And those things were surely a darn sight hairier than the FA president’s upper lip.

At the time of the tongueless smackeroo, nobody gave a toss – including Hermoso herself – until the militant lezarooniees decided it was their divine mission to fuck somebody over.

They just love taking people down, and the higher profile the mug, the better.

Is the squad now threatening not to play until this geezer resigns?

Sounds reasonable to me.

They can fuck right off, and when they’ve fucked off as far as they can, they can take a deep breath and fuck off some more.

And they can take their chocolate ‘world cup’ Mickey Mouse medals with them.

Jesus, they want to be part of the serious football world, and in order to accommodate their sub-incompetent, teen futsal fantasy, we all have to get embroiled in this namby-pamby, look-at-me-I’m-a- victim-schoolgirl pantomime #metoo shite.

Let them strike as infinitum – they’re all crap anyway.

Apparently, FIFA has taken the moral high ground. That must mean that they were unsuccessful in soliciting a bribe to butt out.

This whole shambles is hardly surprising, though. The whole snowflake cancer has slowly integrated itself into every cell of our psyche.

The other day I was watching the Beatles documentary Get Back, when I noticed a warning at the start of each episode that instances of smoking would be depicted.

In other words, we might see people smoking cigarettes.

Oooooooooh.

Today, I read an article on the BBC website offering the following:

Warning: This article contains a reference to suicide.

Now, I can understand why a warning about flashing photography might trigger an involuntary seizure that might make me bite off my own tongue or take a cheeky dump in somebody else’s pants.

But, Christ. People live, and people die. Some embrace life, some embrace death.

There is however a lesson there. The more we accommodate the fantasies of others, the more we have to act them out.

But it’s still all fantasy.

And it’s making flakes of us all.