I'm trying to write about Brexit satirically – but it's actually true. So I came up with some metaphors instead

Brexit is like being Dr Alex on ‘Love Island’ and rejecting every woman that comes into the villa but kicking off when a woman rejects you

I think, for me, the first time Brexit descended into a mindboggling absurdity was when I was stood on a boat, hired by Nigel Farage and Vote Leave, making its way down the Thames.

I was there on behalf of Sky News, who I worked for at the time, rather than for my own jollies, but nevertheless it was a hellfire. The idea behind the protest was to highlight the damage our membership of the EU has done to the UK fishing industry. We were met halfway by a bigger boat, captained by none other than Bob Geldof who was shouting obscenities at Farage via a megaphone. We were then met by another, smaller boat carrying Josh Widdicombe and Adam Hills from The Last Leg. The stuff of fever dreams.

It has seemed like with every passing news story covering Brexit it has become more absurd. The premature triggering of Article 50. May’s insistence that there wouldn’t be a general election before swiftly deciding to throw a general election. Plans to begin stockpiling food in case we eventually fall between the cracks of the EU and a post-Brexit deal.

As someone who likes to make jokes it’s been a bit of a goldmine. As someone who enjoys the fruits of a stable economy and planning for the future it’s been a nightmare.

Top satirist Armando Iannucci, responsible for such joys as The Thick of It and The Death of Stalin, has said in interviews about Brexit that he’s constantly asked to do a Thick of It Brexit edition. Speaking to The Independent last year, he said: “I point people to All Out War by Tim Shipman, a book I’ve been reading, which is a 600-page account of last year behind the scenes, and it’s sort of like a very well written and very well researched episode of The Thick of It, because it’s true, that’s the sad thing.”

And he has a point. It’s hard to satirise something that is already such a joke.

With Brexit, I have found the best way to get my head around it is by using metaphors. It’s hard to describe in a tangible way that isn’t just saying “it’s a s**tshow”, but likening it to another unfortunate event makes it easier.

For example: Brexit is like being the only child is a divorce when your parents say they just want what is best for you but they keep arguing over who gets to keep the summer home.

Without further ado, here is a quick cut-out-and-keep list of Brexit metaphors/similes/allegories/whatever the correct terminology for you to drop into conversation to make it seem like you are on top of proceedings, when in fact none of us is. Not even the prime minister.

• Brexit is like when you decide to go through a fast food drive-thru and you get to the second window and realise that you’ve forgotten your wallet except now there is a car behind you and a car in front so you can’t get out.  
• Brexit is like when you go into a shop and take something to the till and it ends up being more expensive than you thought but you’re too awkward to say anything so you just end up paying over the odds for a bottle of wine you didn’t need anyway.
• Brexit is like when your boyfriend says he’ll be home from work in time for dinner but actually he has gone to the pub with his workmates for a few hours and you’re sat at home like a chump.
• Brexit is like when you lose your phone and you accuse everyone around you of stealing it before you discover that it was actually in the bottom of your bag the whole time but you’re too proud to say anything so you alienate a group of your friends with your false accusations.
• Brexit is like being Dr Alex on Love Island and rejecting every woman that comes into the villa but kicking off when a woman rejects you.
• Brexit is like sinking your fancy pants yacht because you don’t want “foreign” staff to be able to work on it.
• Brexit is like crashing your brand new, souped-up car because you don’t like the directions the satnav is giving you.
• Brexit is like when those people build outhouses in their garden except they didn’t ask for planning permission and the council find out and they have to knock the whole thing down just to ask for planning permission so they can build it again.
• Brexit is like in Eurovision when we psych ourselves up for a win but then we have to sit there for an extended period of time while all the countries around us tell us we’re s**t.
• Brexit is like when you’re at the dentist and the dentist in charge, who has all the dental knowledge, asks you a pertinent and important question but you can’t answer because said dentist has their fingers in your mouth.

All in all, and despite my many Brexit metaphors, it’s hard to say what Brexit really will look like due to the external chaos. The EU negotiation delegation have seemed reasonably understanding of the situation, despite Brexiteer huffing and puffing. Hopefully we’ll soon see a clearer picture of where we’ll end up post-Brexit, with metaphorical toys kept firmly in the pram.