The death of the “Hustings”. In days gone by, any prospective candidate stood on a street corner, hailer in hand and spouted. They were cheered, they were jeered and many got the shit kicked out of them. But. If they wanted your vote, they had to do it. That was the hustings. Every street corner had at least one visit from the current arsehole wanting power. Kids like use used to pelt the cunts ( whoever they were ) and some of the drunks leaving the pub took time out to start a fight.
In those days, that was the only way. No newspaper mastabatory support. No telly to promote your campaign, no armies of cretins in support. Just you. You and your Campaign Manager.
So why cunt the death and demise of the Hustings ? Because if they still went on, none of todays cunts in power would stand up to the test, and we would sharp see the back of these sleazy cunts for wanton lack of guts.
Imagine, a Dark Key on a soapbox in Walker Newcastle in 1956 asking for your vote. The cunt would be swinging from a branch in Walker Park.
Nominated by Asimplearsehole



