REMEMBER on Friday when I said I didn’t want any cookies? Well I remember, and guess what?   

I know you were holding out hope that in the intervening 72 hours I’m suddenly in favour of being spied on, tracked, monitored and my data sold to the highest bidder, but I have some bad news for you. You may want to sit down. 

Perhaps you think you’ll wear me down. Perhaps you’re right, but after clicking reject on every website I’ve been to for the past five years, you must be seeing a pattern. 

Perhaps you think I’ll let my guard down and accidentally click accept. No. I’m eternally vigilant, like an ancient warrior monk faithfully guarding a mountain citadel. Except when I come in from the pub and watch porn when I’m in incognito. 

Have I spent 872 hours of my life, on aggregate, scrolling down a list of cookie options and deselecting boxes? Was that time I could have spent making precious memories? Yes. Some call it stubborn; I call it principled. 

I’ve demonstrated my principles on 134,000 website visits so far. The nagging suspicion that whether I click accept or reject you add whatever cookies you want remains but that’s not the point. 

Deep down we both know I’ll outlast you. Imminent societal collapse means your days are numbered. And as I survive by scavenging from hedges and eating roadkill, I’ll be cackling that I clicked reject on the very last website I saw at before the power went out for good.