How to solve the Greek crisis. No, really.

It seems Greece is fucked. They have no money – even less than me – and they need to sort things out. They’re in big trouble, and they are, as someone pointed out on Twitter earlier, pretty much the early warning that the Third World War is soon going to break out. Economic turmoil affecting normal people in very real ways leading to civil unrest leading to more extreme parties forcing their way into power leading a nation into blindly following their new, insane leader into whatever madcap scheme they come up with simply because it’s better than being the shit under the shoe of the rest of the world.

Or something.

But there is another way: a gameshow. Not just any gameshow, but a reality gameshow. A reality gameshow starring none other than Ian ‘Best In The World’ Dransfield.

Here’s the plan: put me in charge of Greece. Make it my mission to clean up this shitty mess the people have been left in as a result of the decisions of people who they are not. I got a B at GCSE maths – how hard can it be?

Each week I could be presented with a new task to overcome, whether it’s making sure enough buses run to rural areas every day while preserving jobs in another public transport office, or how much I want to spend on the army this week (clue: nothing). If I pass the test, I get a cake! Oh, also Greece pulls itself out of the misery it’s currently engulfed in.

But more importantly: I get a cake!

The idea of putting a normal, though awesome, person in charge of a country they’ve never been in charge of before – hard as it is to believe, I’ve never been in charge of any country, let alone a Greek one – would be a popular one. There’s no arguing that. Millions – billions – around the world would watch, and as a result the ad revenue would be immense.

Now I hate ads, as I’ve spouted off about before, but the idea of getting money from these twatty companies and funnelling it back into Greece sounds like a decent one to me. Obviously I’d bank 35% of all income both for cake and clementines, but the Greek peeps would still land 65%.

Basically, it would be brilliant entertainment, I would be able to solve the country’s problems and it would get them a batch of free money too – money they don’t have to pay back.

And anyway, you owe me Greece – remember when you nearly killed me in that fucking harbour, age three? Yeah, I don’t forgive, I don’t forget. The scar will never fade. I always have to live with the knowledge that when people shave my head they’ll remark “oh! You’ve got a scar!” AS IF I DON’T KNOW. Stupid Greece.

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