A taxi for the golden hat

Oh dear. Aul’ Liz turns up in casual gear designed tae look like an EU flag, to read out the verbose rubbish she’s been handed by the circus clowns who pass for the UK government, with not a hint of a golden hat about her, and her binoculars and a copy of the Racing Post in the back of the motor.

She’s racking her brain on the way out of the chamber as to whether she can ever remember a government quite as incompetent as this bunch of chancers and snake oil wallopers.

The Crown itself was so pissed off with the current government that it took it’s own transport to the big Do. So much for mucking in with austerity measures. No matter, the extra £370 million of taxpayers money arriving through the Buckingham Palace letterbox shortly will help with the petrol money.

In the slim hope of hanging on to power most real Tory policy plans, the nasty ones, from the dementia tax, stealing the weans school lunches, and reintroducing the chasing of wee furry animals around on horseback,and then drinking port whilst laughing and watching a pack of dogs disemboweling the aforementioned wee furry animal while it’s still alive, have been quietly sidelined.

A night of the long knives is coming. The right wing of the Tory party are circling like salivating hyenas. Theresa,the robotic appeaser of a narcissistic misogynist property speculator, ain’t long for high office, unless they want her to remain simply to take the rap for the unfolding Brexit disaster.

Strong and Stable? This is now a farce, and frightening.


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