Following the multi-elections with a particularly jaundiced eye. What a shower. A uniformity orf cunt. Characterless candidates that can only parrot the party line and some cannot even remember their scripts. All determined to say as little as possible orf any substance for the low attention span Twatter generation.
Once this colourless series orf elections is finally over who will remember them? Unless ISIS can train a fresh tranch orf cunts to blow their bolloxs orf. At a time orf unique danger and unparalleled opportunity who is oit there orf any stature to defend our wicket and bat for Blighty? Bugger all in my book.
In me time have shared a cognac with Churchill, heckled Atlee and Eden and had a go at those welsh cunts Bevin and Bevan (look ’em up Google boys). Cunts granted, but there’s me point, not boring cunts. Dreamed through the 60’s (although I do recall the embarrassing fuckdoodle orf our first craven and failed attempts to join what was then the Common Market in 1961. Yes that long ago cunts).
All started to go really tits up in the seventies in to the 80’s as the Polytechnic Political Studies students started to infiltrate politics eg Corbin and Livingstone and any number orf Tory drone clones. Depressing but contrast father and son eg Tony Benn and Hilary, John Prescott and David, Neil Kinnock and slap head junior (fuck, words fail me). Too suicidal to list similar orf other parties. Point is in each instance father a memorable cunt, son a flaccid douche bag. Viewed in HDTV the latest generation orf politicos seem to share a bad dose orf dandruff.
What is there to vote for? ISIS lend me some underpants.
Nominated by Sir Limply Stoke
