ANOTHER MARRIAGE MADE IN LIBDEM HQ ENDS IN DIVORCE.
Here, in Ishmaelia, we always maintained that the marriage of wee ginger Charlie Kennedy, shortly before the 2005 election in which he hoped to at least snatch at the levers of power - but didn't - was one of those cynical, cosmetic, lavender jobs which so many politicians - actually confirmed bachelor boys - contrive at in a desperate bid to present themselves as being as normal as the largest possible quadrant of voters.
Post-marriage, Kennedy, instead of just muttering his dire, wee, Highland aphorisms, tales of his grey-haired Mammy's wisdom and reminding all and sundry that once upon a time he dressed so fine and was the youngest MP ever, garlanded his dire speeches with references to his now being - by marriage - a Suffolk boy, too, almost bursting into lusty Copper Family songs of jolly ploughmen, the horrible ginger git.
His boozing and cowardice saw him off, and saw his party eventually falling into the hands of ToryBoy Clegg, saw his social liberalism gimping, now, for these sinsister reptiles, clapping each other on the back, old man, as, degenerates and gangsters, they lead the attack on single mothers, a public school rabble, baring the naion's arse to the bankers, fucking disgusting hypocrites, creepy bastards who have just doubled their own salaries and pensions, mouthing how we are all in this together, revolting Highland MPs, who would never get into bed with the Tories, now deep under the blankets, noshing. Kennedy's party is ruined, the least he can do is strike another match, go start anew, piss on these shitbags, these ToryLibs.
Having separated - with all the usual nonsense - from his bride of convenience, Champagne Charlie should perform the one task open to him, other than cipherhood; he should cross the floor and take as many of his toilet-creeeping, shit-eating mates with him as possible - only not Straight Simon Hughes, leave him stewing, sidestepping, prevaricating in his bogus eminence gris-ness, irrelevant; having allowed Thatcher in for all those years, and having recently buggered democracy until it bleeds, it is the very least that so-called senior LibDems can do. Not voting for the Coalition, Charlie, isn't enough. Nobody voted for it, remember? This is a pubic schoolboy coup, orchestrated and maintained by skymadeupnewsandfilth, Kennedy can see it gone by Christmas.
5 comments:
Ghastly, mad nutter with not a Liberal bone in his body. A truly fitting leader of what the Dogshooters had become.
Clegg, the dumbest of the Libdumbs, I see has said that the coalition can survive even if electoral reform doesn't turn up. I'll bet Cameron was laughing so much when he read that that he spilt his poolside G&T. Yay! That's one problem out of the way, eh, Dave? Poof! And the LibDems are gone. Out of their own mouths and for free. Invisible now. Go back to your constituencies and prepare for oblivion.
Aye, but will he jump, Charlie, vengeful, vindicated, or will his lack of bottle keep him there, muted, castrated, lacking even Straight Simon's tacky prominence, as welcome, as valued as warm snot on a doorknob?
Good grief, if it wasn't so disgusting, one could laugh, however, the only opportunity available is to weep.
My hatred of Labour and their Ruinous form had me, at one point strategizing that perhaps, just perhaps, they could be ended. I did not truly understand the depths of principle that can be had within the Lib Dems though. Never having really listened, cared, considered their politics. It would seem now that we are truly in a 1 party state; different aspects but still the same homogenous entity - neither right nor left, nor principled or committed. Just fuckwits eagerly making shit up as they go along, noshing off different people at different times but still noshing, still sucking on Ruin's cock.
When you can't even rely on Lib Dems being thoroughly fucking stupid then, surely, we are in a new vanguard of pointless politics. Post politics - showfuckingbusiness! What the fuck is the point? Ho diddly hum.
They say power attracts. And I believe it.
I'd have thought young Charlie Kennedy would have been making out like an alley cat - youngest MP and all that. But, and may God forgive me, that is a particularly unflattering photograph of a laydee.
Jeeezus - I'm prettier than that.
Yes, me too.
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