(C)Leggless and (Mill)Abandoned (Ca)Morons

By Southwest Nationalist. Well, what a time for UK politics. It’s crisis time. We’re up to our proverbial necks in debt, we’re broke, we’re involved in a few wars, we face the destruction of all that is British under the combined onslaught of the EU on one side and Islam coupled with mass immigration on the other, we are – to pull no punches – screwed.

And what the hell have we got in the way of mainstream politicians leading the major parties who should be standing up for Britain’s interests.

Dave Camoron as many pundits seem to call him. Or Dhimmi Dave. Or Supermuscularliberalman! Say one thing, do another, out to beat the record for broken election pledges and doing a bloody good job of it.

There’s an old Oasis song, aptly rewordable to give us “What’s the story, mourning Tory” – because the Tory grandees of old sure must be weeping over the liberal fop that holds their highest office now. Think he’ll do a thing for Britain? Keep on dreaming, he’s the death knell of a party that decided after New Labours success at retaining power for three elections that “if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em”.

Ed. Ed Who? Yep, Ed Millabandoned. Struggling with a decade of corrupt Blair years, topped off with idiot Brown whose sole achievement appears to have been to sell off 1/2 our gold at rock bottom prices and then to claim credit for averting a banking disaster which, lo and behold, turned out to be a nightmare anyway.

Ed, no offence to him, has about the charisma and the impact of a dead frog. He’s the sacrificial goat, the clumsy new kid on the block who Labour pretends will rehabilitate them. He won’t, they know that, but he’ll make a good figurehead whilst all in Labour hope that the voting public forget the corrupt insanity that was New Labour.

Good old Ed will tick a few boxes, wish all a happy Ramadan, and pass into oblivion as a colourless leader who achieved nothing. For the best really, were there any justice the Labour party would be unelectable for a century after Blair and his corrupt, mass immigration is great, war crimes riddled, terms in office.

Then we’ve got Clegg. Nope, Nick Clegg, not that dopey guy in Last of the Summer Wine, although in fairness few can really tell the difference.

Mr Puppet on a string, dancing to the Tory tune. All those Liberal Democrat voters may as well have voted for a nodding dog because that’s what they got. A poodle in a coalition who comes running when the Tory master clicks his fingers and offers to throw a few bones from the big boys table.

Cleggless and ready to fall on his backside at any opportunity, whether the fall be clumsiness or deliberately exposing his tummy and wagging his tail in the hope of some love from the Tory master. A real pet poodle, strutting the stage like king dog on the block yet ready to turn tail the moment another mutt barks nearby.

The worse thing is – there’s no real difference between all of them. It’s the Three Stooges, it’s comedy hour, and the joke is on us.

We’re facing challenges which are all but unprecedented in UK history, and among the main political leaders we’ve a choice of three charmers who could easily slot into an episode of Vic Reeves Big Night Out. Let’s take a trip to Novelty Island, what’s on the end of the stick, Vic?!

It’s like a night at the circus watching clowns prance around, only every time the custard pie is going to end up in our face, not theirs, those squirty flowers full of water are all aimed at us.

And those painted smiles are on their faces, it’s us left to do the crying. Ain’t Lib/Lab/Con just great? Everyone loves a good joke, but it soon stops being funny when we realize that we’re the joke and they’re all laughing at us.