The One That Feels Sorry For Ruth Kelly's Family. . .

I mean, fancy having her hanging around the house, speaking in that voice that makes her sound like a growth hormone ridden East German shot-putter.

Needing to spend more time with your family? I don't know which is more disturbing, the fact that one of these ZNL fucktards has admitted that they can't get the job done and needs to step down, or that they think they've completed the task and are now settling down for a well earned rest.

Probably neither, the most likely explanation is that at least one of these delusional idiotarians has got their head of their backside for long enough to realise that their majority is nowhere near as big as they thought it was and they'd best get some job hunting done pronto.

Isn't it weird that only the day before you dropped your bombshell (the shot that was heard around the . . . room?) you were telling the media they were all idiotic ninnies for daring to suggest you were about to bail out? But that lie is OK, is it? Apparently you told Gordon you were off in May, so why, when pressed on the subject did you stand there and tell a bold faced lie? If you lie about that, how do you expect anyone to believe anything you and your disgusting little clan ever say again?

Election night when it comes promises to be an elephant hunt with a good deal of political 'heavyweights' seeking alternate employment. What is even more bizarre is the fact that I have absolutely no doubt that they'll jog into a position that is heavy on wages and light on work inspite of a track-record of not listening to anything anyone has said, crass stupidity and miserable and complete failure.

Just in case they haven't got the message yet: It's done. Over. Finished. You've had it. You now have the life expectancy of a Brazilian entering a tube station.

The only decision you have left is whether you peel the sticking plaster off slowly, or rip it off. Whichever way, I shall sit back and watch your pain and discomfort with great enjoyment. The only problem is that the bunch who will replace you will quickly prove to be as odious and objectionable as you.

The One That Is . . . . . . . . speechless. . .

Where to start? What in the wide, wide world of sports is going on?

Firstly Gordon the Goldfish told Cameron in the house last month that if he looks at the new vehicle excise duty plans that:

'. . .he will see that the majority of drivers will benefit from it.'

Now this morning we hear that the Treasury's own figures show that 9 million motorists will be worse off as a result.





NINE FUCKING MILLION.




I don't have the car ownership stats, although I could probably find them if I had the inclination, however I willing to bet that nine million shaftees doesn't constitute a minority of car owners.

That's nine million people being kicked squarely in the bollocks when he expressly told us that the majority of us would benefit. But that's not all, those who will be hit worse by this pernicious, hostile and retrospective tax will be those with older cars. Who owns these cars? The poor, the elderly, single parents, the disabled. Well done Gordon, well done indeed. The opposition parties couldn't even dream this own goal up, you really have taken political suicide to a new level.

So we have two conclusions to draw from this;
Firstly, you knowingly and deliberately misled the house when you told Cameron that. Therefore you should be held to account for this and removed from office immediately. Secondly, you are so amazingly incompetent and pig-shit thick that you cannot be trusted to run a bath, let alone a country, and should be removed from office immediately.

I've asked before, how does us giving you all our money equate to 'saving the environment'? It doesn't it is taking money under false pretence. This is called fraud.

I quote this lyric from 'Take A Bow' by Muse, one of my favourite popular beat ensembles:

Corrupt
You're corrupt
Bring corruption to all that you touch
Hold
You behold
And beholden for all that you've done
And spin
Cast a spell
Cast a spell on the country you run
And risk
You will risk
You will risk all their lives and their souls

And burn
You will burn
You will burn in hell, yeah you'll burn in hell
You'll burn in hell
Yeah you'll burn in hell
For your sins

And then, AND THEN, you tell the New Statesman that you're just like Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights! You want to be compared to one of the most dysfunctional characters in English literature? A violent, spousal abuser, probably guilty of murder with a penchant for digging up dead bodies.

Well, at least he's honest about something.

As an aisde, Heathcliff's love rival in the book, who eventually marries Cathy is called Linton. Now which former PM has that as one of his names?