Leaving aside the President of the United States instructing his lawyer to break the law (for which Cohen has just received a 3-year custodial sentence), would you ever trust The Conservative party again? Just when we, the people, needed some sort of certainty so the politicians could have a go at sorting out the mess that is Brexit, the Tories go and throw the apples off the cart and have a go at their boss. And then, those pointing the finger (who are only interested in a shot at the title) will not offer an alternative to May’s plan that doesn’t upset the Ulster Unionists – who constitute under 0.5% of the British population. Because they know that if the Conservatives loose the UUP’s support, there’ll be a vote of no confidence, a general election and they will all be out of a job. And that’s not because Labour know their backsides from their elbows, it’s just because if we were all given the chance nobody would vote for a party that behaves like a soap opera.
Nigel Farage is right – for once in his life. He should form a new party with the 50 or so fringe Tory politicians, including Jacob RM and Boris J (who Ken Clarke today said ‘couldn’t run a whelk stall’), and let them attract olde-England and other not-quite Fascist loons. And the rest of us can find a country-wide compromise and start to do what’s best for all of us, not just those of us with egos the size of Battersea powerstation.
We are a joke. And, I don’t know about you, but I’m not used to that. Grrrrrr.
Ho-hum. We’ve been busy. C and I do travel a lot. And that was fine when we were ‘travellers’, and the destinations were far-off shores with twinkling seas and relaxing cafes. Now we gallivant around the country with our pants on fire – all for the right reasons, including Jen’s business. But, when I popped onto Doris this evening to use her as an extended wardrobe, I couldn’t stop myself from saying ‘I love you, Doris’, out loud. And that’s a good thing. Because if this all gets too much we can fill her full of water, two pairs of shorts, some sunglasses and a gallon of red wine and point the compass south. Life is, after all, too short not to say ‘bugger it’ and go and brown our knees.
Back at Jen’s tomorrow and Friday, and then off the NEC on Saturday. Bex and Steven are home on Sunday and that will be both fab … and tiring. Bex has an energy of her own, which I remember having when I was younger and had more hair. The good thing as a typical millennial and v interested in politics, she will be more upset about Trump and Brexit than me, so I’ll be able to share my spittings with a fellow dissenter.
And I’m very pleased about all that.