Darling I’m holding a general election in a couple of weeks…

So, I was sitting in front of my fancy Apple computer, when the volume on the office TV was suddenly whacked up to its maximum capacity.  In an announcement that almost made me spit out my courgetti; the artist formerly known as ‘Big T’ proclaimed that the game of political musical chairs (in which the nation has played the role of long suffering fiddler) was not in fact over. We Britons, who have been dreaming of the illusive and distant hope of a ‘quiet life’, have once again had our hopes dashed, most cruelly.

Theresa May standing at the ‘plinth of shame’, (and looking every bit the demon headmistress) casually informed the nation of her intention to hold a last minute general election.  Pretty much in the same way that you send out a group text to an impromptu barbeque being held in your back yard. Apparently May, wants to take Corbz outside for an after-school scrap; in which the victor wins the prize of steering home the Good Ship Brexit.

 

For want of more articulate and nuanced phrasing; this is all getting rather silly.  I really am beginning to feel the withering effects of having to choose between catastrophe ‘A’ or ‘B’.  Although choosing between wanker ‘A’ or ‘B’ is no fairer a prospect.  And of course let us not forget the other course on today’s political menu; ‘Would you like your Brexit hard? Or soft Madame?’

Brexit has been the bomb, that just keeps on exploding.  This little island has seen an endless procession of reshuffles, rearrangements and resignations.  But, now faces the real (and gloomy) prospect of committing for the next five years to a conservative government hell bent on financially throttling Britain’s poorest; while simultaneously dismantling the NHS as though it were an ill constructed set of Ikea draws.  In fact, I believe Theresa and Co have planned to sell off hospital fittings and fixtures in an hour long special of ‘Cash in the Attic’.

But never fear Corbz is here.  We’ve only got to wait until the ‘end of May’ to get our hands on Labour’s manifesto.  Perhaps the delay is in part owing to the possibility of Earth being little more than a stricken wasteland by late Spring, courtesy of DT.  Things are looking up.

Lefties will be glad to know that the Labour leader has his shoulder pressed firmly to the wheel and is tackling this election’s big issues head on; declaring his unwavering commitment to the introduction of four extra bank holidays.  You couldn’t make this stuff up – no really – you couldn’t.

Either way, I think it’s safe to say we’re totally screwed.  It’s kind of a relief in a way, sort of like that feeling you get when you’ve made a total cock up at your dream job interview.  You know there’s nothing you can do but endure the ride, holding on for dear life, however rocky the course.

For what it’s worth, I’d rather throw the country (and myself) into the power of a Corbin lead Cabinet.  Corbz may have the disposition and delivery of a geography teacher who lets you call him by his first name; but I believe he operates from a position of fundamental concern for Britain and the people living in it.  The Conservatives irrespective of their leader have clung to their age old mantra of standing for those ‘who want to work hard and get on’, never once acknowledging that their continual swift and silent pulling of the rug from beneath the feet of the vulnerable, makes this nigh on impossible.

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