It’s all just getting just a wee bit too bizarre now, this political survival game.
Kidding on that nothing has happened over the last week, apart from a magnificent, all powerful, sweeping Tory victory, Theresa May has expunged her soul of all negative energy by prostrating herself, wrapped in a union flag, on a cold stone floor in front of the cloven -hoofed, black- cloaked Tory 1922 Committee (nasty bunch of feckers) before self-flagellating herself with the strap from one of the Iron Lady’s auld handbags for a good hour in the middle of a wheat field in Sussex whilst chanting “I am Strong and Stable, I am Strong and Stable”.
Purged in her own mind of the very obvious failings that the rest of us can see she’s off and running again. invigorated, on what is likely to be the wackiest period of government the UK has seen since Ted Heath asked those nice coal-mining chaps to turn off the lights so that we could all play cards by candlelight at nights.
A heid-less chicken comes to mind.
Still trying to navigate her way through the K-tel ‘No Surrender hits of the 1970’s’ double album ,
there seems to be little or no consensus yet between her and her new worthy brothers and sisters about an agreed policy programme for the new parliament.
Apparently the Prime Minister has finally compromised and caved in on sending a shipping tanker load of wooden pallets to the province in time for bonfire day on 12 July, but is still holding out on the request by the DUP for Pope Francis to be delivered with it. Ms May, playing for time, has blamed EU law for her inability to subject the former Cardinal Bergoglio to a touch of extraordinary rendition, whilst making sure that she remains vague about her own spiritual upbringing whilst in the presence of her new colleagues.
As a result of the ten members of the Northern Irish party of extremes wagging the dog it looks too like the old lady of London, fresh from an appearance on George Clarke’s ‘The Restoration Man’ where the challenge was made to do up her ramshackle home for only £370 million of taxpayers money, will have to shuffle her diary about a bit, before reading out the twisted spite which passes for Tory policy (no doubt enhanced by their new connections to yet more extremism) during the pomp and ceremony of her traditional post election, but now delayed, Queen’s Speech. How inconvenient.
It would appear too that all of the self inflicted chaos created as Theresa May hangs on by the tips of her fingers to power may mercifully result in the Brexit negotiations being delayed.
That can only be a good thing at this point. Although if you happen to be down at Ocean Terminal in Leith, and whilst popping into Boots or Vision Express notice that a certain Royal Yacht seems to be missing from the dockside on the Forth, don’t worry, it will just mean that Theresa May has coaxed the old darlings out of retirement to go and schmooze some EU commissioners over canapés whilst she try’s to work out what the feck she is going to do to try and avert a self- inflicted economic disaster for the UK.
I note too that Ruthie, Queen of Scots’s meteoric rise continues as she is invited to sit alongside the now even more smug newly improved Viceroy Mundell at the first meeting of the new cabinet.
Crying magnanimity and pragmatism from her lofty height, in all her regal wisdom, good Queen Ruthie, god bless her, is trying desperate sair to portray an image to Scots yet again that although she is a Tory she isnae really a Tory.
Apparently her new shock troops at Westminster will have an air of independence in their decision making, there’s an irony in there somewhere, and will vote how they best see fit to serve Scotland’s interests. Somebody please check their voting record in about three months time and let is know on how many occasions any of them vote against their masters will you? I think we can all say with a reasonable certainty that it will be zero, the middle of a doughnut.
It’s time, according to regal Ruthie, for the UK government to include others in their decision making and strategising over the Brexit talks, no shyte Ruthie, Nicola Sturgeon has only been saying that same thing every day since the end of June last year. Well spotted.
Watch out though folks. It’s not beyond the realms of possibility that, brass necked as they are, Theresa May decides to include Queen Ruth in her negotiation team for Europe and starts telling us all that she respects the great partnership of Union so much that she has included someone to represent Scotland at the bargaining table.
There goes that flawed arithmetical question again. Is 35 more, equal or less than 13?
Democracy? What democracy?