Ruth’s on the glue

She’s up for making a name for herself right enough is wee mad mental Ruth these last few days.

Following on from her weekend of making a pure fanny of herself, spinning like a top on progressive policies that have been in place in Scotland for years, which if it wisnae for the need to try and con voters during a General Election would make her teeth bleed wae the grinding, and then winding up the ludge to a jihad for Jeremy, she wanders doon tae London tae lecture the English about the SNP, and holy bejesus she’s let the cat oot the proverbial by admitting that she knows for sure that the evil separatists are actually Martians fae Mars, rid-eyed pan-sexual four legged dragon monkeys in human costumes.

She has revealed tae an audience at University College London, who thought they were there to hear all about how the vile civil nationalists were like the pigs in Animal Farm, that thon Nicola Sturgeon is actually the lizard wummin from the 1980’s Sci Fi series V whose jaw dislocates so that she can eat the odd hamster or two, or steak bridie, whilst she waits for planet earth tae bend tae her will.

How a woman who represents a party which panders to rightwing nationalist fascism, racists, religious bigots, misogynists and abusers of small bushy tailed mammals, and has amongst its number officially endorsed local elected members who publicly seem to be obsessed wae their members, and Boris Johnson, can be considered qualified to accuse any other political party of being Orwellian or sinister is beyond me.

Fond of a headline is wee Ruthster, doesn’t matter if it’s a bad one, she’s still fond of it.

A potential First Minister of Scotland? Put the lights oot, lock the doors at Bute Hoose and hand the keys back.

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