Thought you couldn’t get worse than Boris Johnson
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We might get Jacob Rees-Mogg as PM if Truss is given the heave ho triggering another far too long drawn out procession of nonentities all trying to sound Prime Ministerial. With her in charge Labour could win a General Election if their leader was called Stalin instead of Starmer.
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For the Torie to call for an election right now would be comitting self-annihilation. They won't do it and will try to use the next two years to recover from the current prosition in the polls. Same reason that Major dragged ou the election as long as possible in the nineties (spoiler alert: It didnlt help him). However, can this be done with Truss as PM? I think they have realised yesterday that the answer is no. I'm pretty sure she'll be gone by Christmas but then the fun really begins, namely, the parliamentary party engineering the last two to both be acceptable to themselves and not JUST to Arthur and Deirdrie in Chester. I still think that Tony Bair is the best leader the Tories never had
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I haven’t been watching anything political lately but I’m assuming that there have been calls for a General Election? After all I remember well the Tories under David Cameron repeatedly stating that Gordon Brown didn’t have a mandate to govern when he simply took over from Tony Blair as Leader and PM. Remember the stick that Cameron gave Brown over the Despatch Box? It was pretty much non-stop. Ditto Truss. There’s one difference though of course - if Brown hadn’t chickened out and had called an election at that time he’d probably have won because he was quite popular at the time. It would be more difficult to see Truss and the Tories winning a General Election at the moment. To steal a phrase from Billy Connolly, she’s about as popular as a fart in a spacesuit.
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It seems that the last 3 weeks have gone far worse that any doomsayer on depressants might have imagined in his wildest dreams. Truss, Kwarteng and Reece-Mogg constitute a new axis of morons that the like of which I haven't seen in western politics in my life-time. PMQs is on in 20 minutes, I'm off to the shop to get some popcorn, this could be entertaining....
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A Politician Dies And Has To Spend Just ONE Day In Hell.
A politician dies and ends up standing in front of the pearly gates. Saint Peter looks at him for a second, flicks through his book, and finds his name.
"So, you're a politician..."
"Well, yes, is that a problem?"
"Oh no, no problem. But we've recently adopted a new system for people in your line of work, and unfortunately you will have to spend a day in Hell. After that however, you're free to choose where you want to spend eternity!"
"Wait, I have to spend a day in Hell?!" says the politician. "Those are the rules," replies St Peter, clicks his fingers, and WOOMPH, the guy dissapears. He awakes, curled up with his hands over his eyes, knowing he's in Hell. Cautiously, he listens for the screams, sniffs the air for brimstone, and finds... Nothing. Just the smell of, is that fabric softener? And cut grass, this can't be right?
"Open your eyes!" says a voice. "C'mon, wakey wakey, we've only got 24 hours!" Nervously, he uncovers his eyes, looks around, and sees he's in a hotel room. A nice one too. Wait, this is a penthouse suite... And there's a smiling man in a suit, holding a martini. "Who are you??" The politician asks.
"Well, I'm Satan!" says the man, handing him the drink and helping him to his feet. "Welcome to Hell!"
"Wait, this is Hell? But... Where's all the pain and suffering?" he asks.
Satan throws him a wink. "Oh, we've been a bit misrepresented over the years, it's a long story. Anyway, this is your room! The minibar is of course free, as is the room service, there's extra towels next to the hot-tub, and if you need anything, just call reception. But enough of this! It's a beautiful day, and if you'd care to look outside..."
Slightly stunned by the opulent surroundings, the man wanders over to the floor-to-ceiling windows through which the sun is glowing, looks far down, and sees a group of people cheering and waving at him from a golf course.
"It's one of 5 pro-level courses on site, and there's another 6 just a few minutes drive out past the beach and harbour!" says Satan, answering his unasked question.
So they head down in the lift, walk out through the glittering lobby where everyone waves and welcomes the man, as Satan signs autographs and cheerily talks shop with the laughing staff. And as he walks out, he sees the group on the golf course are made up of every one of his old friends, people he's admired for years but never met or worked with, and people whose work he's admired but died long before his career started. And out of the middle of this group walks his wife, with a massive smile and the body she had when she was 20, who throws her arms around him and plants a delicate kiss on his cheek. Everyone cheers and applauds, and as they slap him on the back and trade jokes, his worst enemy arrives, as a 2 foot tall goblin-esque caddy. He spends the day in the bright sunshine on the course, having the time of his life laughing at jokes and carrying important discussions, putting the world to rights with his friends while holding his delighted wife next to him as she gazes lovingly at him.
Later, they return to the hotel for dinner and have an enormous meal, perfectly cooked. As everyone is falling about laughing and flinging bread sticks at each other, his wife whispers in his ear... And they return to their penthouse suite, and spend the rest of the night making love like they did on their honeymoon. After hours of passion, the man falls deep into the 100% Egyptian cotton pillows, and falls into a deep and happy sleep... and is woken up by St Peter.
"So, that was Hell. Wasn't what you were expecting, I bet?" "No sir!" says the man. "So then," says St Peter. "You can make your choice. It's Hell, which you saw, or Heaven, which has choral singing, talking to God, white robes, and so on."
"Well... I know this sounds strange, but on balance, I think I'd prefer Hell," says the politician. "Not a problem, we totally understand! Enjoy!" says St Peter, and clicks his fingers again.
The man wakes up in total darkness, the stench of ammonia filling the air and distant screams the only noise. As he adjusts, he can see the only light is from belches of flame far away, illuminating the ragged remains of people being tortured or burning in a sulphurous ocean. A sudden bolt of lightning reveals Satan next to him, wearing the same suit as before and grinning, holding a soldering iron in one hand and a coil of razor-wire in the other. "What's this??" He cries. "Where's the hotel?? Where's my wife??? Where's the minibar, the golf-courses, the pool, the restaurant, the free drinks and the sunshine???"
"Ah", says Satan. "You see, yesterday, we were campaigning. But today, you voted."
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Originally posted by Dupin View Post
It isn't all politicians that cause the chaos, it's the career politicians who have never had a working life. People like our two contenders who both did PPE at MoTown Uni. (aka Cowley Uni)
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Liz Truss has the brain of a backward earwig, but at least if she wins and becomes PM - as it looks like she will - the backward stick insect, Jacob Rees-Mogg, will be guaranteed a job, and the Tories will be guaranteed to lose the next General Election.
So it's not all bad.
Another bottle of Champagne may well be called for by all those with brain cells in double figures.
Love,
Caz
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I'm not sure that anyone would wittingly assemble such things though.
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Originally posted by Harry D View Post
I'm still not convinced politicians are real people.
I think they're mass-produced in a factory in Taiwan.
More like offcuts from the factory floor, animated accidentally by an unfortunate bolt of lightning (or similar)!
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