The papers are depressingly full of it: the oleaginous David Millipede is "pointedly refusing to rule out a leadershit challenge." Whoop-de-fucking-do. Evidently he has a brother called Ed, who is also in the government. Ed is the lucky one, his face doesn't look like he's some kind of spaz. David, on the other hand is famous only for having a face that looks like a Mr Bean mask, halfway through putting it on.
Anyway, David is apparently our foreign secretary or something. Wow. Just look at how important Britain is to the rest of the world, and you'll immediately discern what a super job this fuckwad is doing for us. And he wants to run the country?
Well, of course he does! The talentless little know-nothing has never had a real job in his entire life (he's been a policy wonk and then straight into government) but of course, he thinks he's got what it takes to run the country. Or does he even care?
Is he just going for the gold-plated pension while he sees the overt Labour political project completely buried, and replaced by a covert Labour project of Quangoes, Commissions, Charities, Think-tanks, Progressive Organisations and other septic tanks of high-quality thinking. We're going to be surrounded by a burgeoning swell of unelected busybodies telling us all how to live every fucking aspect of our lives, even more than we already do right now.
And "Call Me Dave" is going to be as much use as tits on a bull for sorting this out. If you put Dave and the Millipede into a dark room and tried to tell them apart by their morals, inclinations and experience, I bet you fucking couldn't.
Dave, Dave or Gorgon. We're fucked, good and proper. But it's OK, we've only got to pay for it.
Update: Trixy is fucked in the head. But sadly for her, that's all.