Tag Archives: General Election 2010

And So It Ends….

11 May

Earlier Brown resigned from the whole thing…..he said “Fuck it, I’ve had enough” (I’m loosely translating it from Politicianese). Whether it was from frustration or simple acceptance of defeat, he resigned as the leader of the party and the leader of our country. Brown got in touch with the Queen. And the rest is history.

I did speak to some American chums today. We’re actually getting a little  coverage in the US, which has to mean something (though I’m not sure just what). Here is what Americans are saying about the great Great Britain.

They also found the transfer of power quite hard to accept as it was without the flash of their inauguration.

Apparently President Obama has already big upped Cameron by phone. They’re quite good friends after they went out clubbing the last time Obama was in town. Obama praised Cameron’s rhythm and Dave commented that “No one vogues like the President.” So I guess it’s all set now.

It appears David Cameron is our man now. With a little Clegg on the side.

Hmmm…..I need to have a little think.

The King Maker and The Game Changer

10 May

Gordon Brown pulled a dastardly trick today by announcing he’s standing down. Must have felt good (in a way) to show he still makes a difference (in a way).

Meanwhile Clegg is still whoring it up between the two parties. “Things are going well with Posh Boy,” he coyly whispers, “But wouldn’t someone from the other side like a little go?” Really! The Tories are promising AV (when I was in high school, AV meant the Audio-Visual Club, therefore my previous analogy of Clegg being the nerd holds true) while Labour’s agreed to chuck their leader. My oh my, Nicholas. Aren’t we the big I am?

Although it’s clearly giving him a rise in the trouser department, Clegg is ultimately doing the right thing and, more importantly, the thing he said he’d do. He said he’d talk first to the team who won the most, which he did, and now he’s talking to the other. We certainly can’t fault a man who keeps his promises (though why one of those promises has to do with pornography, I’m still unsure).

What’s more of a concern is which one of those twats in the Labour Party is going to become leader. Surely, it mustn’t be the little squirrel woman (in addition to her obvious shortcomings, she rides a motorbike for goodness sake!). I can’t picture Banana Boy as leader. Could we trust a woman with 9 points on her license to drive our nation forward? And Balls. No, not Balls. Balls should be lucky he’s got as far as he has with a name like that. No country, not even those with the most generous of obscenity laws, is going to be led by a man names Balls. (And lest you think I’m being petty, please recall that’s he made a right Balls-up with schools. Sure, it’s only kids, but do you want him doing something similar to people who really matter?)

So I suppose we’re still at the Waiting Game. Each and every party said they wanted change. It looks as though change it will be.

The Day After Election Day 2010—In Case Something Happens

7 May

We have a hung parliament.

I’m not sure exactly what that means. I can only presume that all laws are in limbo until this gets sorted. Christopher says the traffic light is out near the Sainsbury’s roundabout and I notice that my post has yet to be delivered. I advise that we all stay in our houses until it’s safe again. If you venture out and come to danger, you will have no one to blame except yourself (especially if you didn’t vote).

From what I understand, after abandoning the traditional democratic route, our government may be decided via a technique most often employed in American high schools. Junior David Cameron was hoping to be Big Man on Campus yesterday.  His plan was muddled by the pesky underclassmen (whom he’s doggedly tried to befriend in the last few weeks, despite the fact he clearly despises most of them since their parents work at his father’s factory and they neglect to wear school colours on pep rally days) when they refused to vote him a clear winner for Prom King. He’s now courting sophomore Nick Clegg, the nerd who is bound to come of age after this experience but first must wrestle with a moral dilemma (if this were a John Hughes film, he’d be played by Anthony Michael Hall), with a “big and open offer.” Nick Clegg’s playing coy (after all it was just weeks ago Cameron and his gang gave him a swirlie in the boys’ bathroom) but seems to be flirting with the idea. Former Prom King, senior Gordon Brown, is trying to stay cool. He thinks he’s taking the high road by giving them the go ahead to talk behind the bike sheds, but says he’ll be waiting when Clegg sees Cameron for the bully he really is. Cameron’s made the “I’ll–call–you” sign to Clegg, who hopefully will have time for a quick chat with an older and wiser friend who lived through a similar situation back when he was in Downing Street High.

How will it work out? Will the rich kid get the prize? Will the outsider make a difference? Will the old guard learn a lesson? And where is Molly Ringwald?

I’ll be keeping you up to date as I can, but I must confess I’m glad Dimbleby’s signed off for a bit. He’s clearly over tired. I didn’t like the way he reacted to the discussion of the election on blogs and Twitter. David, don’t mock something you clearly don’t understand. Get some sleep, my son. Things always seems clearer after a little kip.

Election Day 2010—As It Happens

6 May

7.10:  As a devoted citizen of Great Britain, not only did I submit my postal vote in plenty of time to be counted, I also went down to the polling station at the parish council to vote there, just to make sure.

8.30: Bumped into a second cousin, twice removed, of Lord Sutch at the flower shop…he’s got his fingers crossed, a mouse in his pocket and a very, very large rosette on his waistcoat.

9.33: Yesterday Nick Clegg tripped over a clump of grass while on walkabout at Royal Eastbourne Golf Club and muttered “Divot,” unaware his mic was still on. Was the scandal too late in the day to affect voters?

10.42: Despite the fact that I’ve not had it set this morning, my hair is looking rather fetching.

11.10: Jodie Marsh announces she’s hoping for a well hung parliament.

12.08: Could have sworn I heard a crack in the voice of our local radio DJ at the top of the hour, as he said the Prime Minister’s name. It was like a goodbye between lovers. I made sure to avert my eyes from the wireless, to show respect for his sorrow.

13.58: WE HAVE A WINNER! Kevin Pieterson is the man in power as England defeat Pakistan.

14.21: You mustn’t spoil your ballot paper—if it’s a close call, they award extra credit for neatness.

15.03: Crisis for the BNP. Hoping to get his party’s webpage back in its full glory, Nick Griffin spends the last twenty four hours trying to do a Downfall parody meme for the election, but cannot post it. He does not see the irony.

16.21: Rarely do we know in advance that a day is going to be historic. Today is one of those days. Here’s a thrifty tidbit for you: buy an issue of each of the major papers and seal them in plastic. In the future, you will be able to sell these on eBay for a good £2.50 each. Free money!

17.43: Cameron claims Obama’s support before realizing that the “slick” the President is working so hard to get sorted doesn’t refer to him.

18.15: Shock news…Charles Kennedy can’t take the pressure, steps down and has, in the last half hour, developed a drinking problem.

19.47: If you’ve not voted yet, get your little bottoms into gear. As soon as you’re behind the curtains, read each of the parties’ names carefully (sometimes they do try to trick you).

20.19: Christopher’s heading over here shortly to accompany me for the election results. It’s a potluck event. I’m providing cheese, crackers, biscuits, and other nibbles. Christopher’s bringing Bacardi Breezers.

21.14: If Nick Griffin is standing in Barking, shouldn’t Cameron represent Cockermouth, Brown Pity Me, and Clegg Lickey End?

22.00 Anyone who’s been turned away from the polling booth, please remember that my ballot box is accessible twenty four hours a day.

23.44: They’ll keep the red flag flying here (in Sunderland).

0.28: I do hereby declare that Joan Collins should keep her trap shut.

1.01: My first experience with a Swing–O–Meter was in my early twenties at a rather unorthodox job interview. It was measuring something slightly different than the one is tonight (though my result was highly un-Conservative).

1.34: Gordon Brown finally genuinely smiled. A genuine one is much less scary. Congratulations, Mister Prime Minister.

1.46: Freedom for Tooting!

2.21: Oh, Lembit. How we’ll miss your quirky ideas and gal pals.

2.32: Just because the UK followed the US style of televised debates doesn’t mean you needed to go whole hog and introduce American dodgy scandals at the polls. My word, there are already Facebook groups set up to protest!

3.01: Well done to the Monster Raving Loonies for giving Cameron a real run for his money. I’ve no doubt you fought as hard and as determinedly as you could. I’m sure your constituency is proud.

4.37: Porn destroys lives—ask Jacqui Smith.

4.52: Balls.

5.59: I can’t believe Nick Griffin’s reaction. I was surprised when he got the tears in his eyes, but when he fell down, went foetal and began rocking like a baby, I just about shit myself.

6.44: I’m cross with Christopher. I think he’s eaten too many biscuits. He’s just spent quite a bit of time moaning on the floor, distracting me from the lovely Nick Clegg’s results. I knew Jaffa Cakes were a bad idea. I’ve always said they’re not real biscuits; now perhaps Christopher will accept that I’m right.

7.08: Now I’m feeling a bit funny in the tummy. I didn’t have any Jaffa Cakes, mind—I think it’s just the feeling I get when I hear Clegg described as the “king maker.”

7.47: I’ve put Christopher to bed, but he can’t seem to settle. I’m going to go sit with him for a bit. Gordon, don’t stand down while I’m gone.

What Fresh Hell is This?

20 Jan

If you have come here to find out for whom you should vote in the upcoming election (whose date looks to be May 6th, but my goodness, you shouldn’t be relying on me to schedule such important things), I’m afraid you will meet with disappointment. I am well aware that many people are such blind followers of celebrities that they have created a whole industry dedicated to emulating them.  Undoubtedly there are people out there who would love to be more like me (and why wouldn’t they?); however, I refuse to influence anyone’s decision about such an important topic as which party should rule our country. So if you want someone to tell you how to vote, you will need to go to elsewhere.

However, I do feel it is not an abuse of my overwhelming popularity to make a simple statement about the most important issue facing us right now: the economy.

I’m not oblivious to the fact that we’re in a “recession”; just because I have an endless stream of income doesn’t mean I’m not aware that others do not. I read the papers and I occasionally watch the telly, and as you know I have nothing but respect for John Humphrys and if he says there’s trouble, I know there’s trouble.

Furthermore, as a woman of the people, I care about the people. If my neighbours are no longer able to afford to have their paper delivered and instead have to walk down to the news agents themselves, well, that’s worrying. However, I have recently learned that the situation might be even worse than anyone had previously imagined. What has really “blown my mind” is the way it is affecting local council budgets. As a result, the lives of everyday people are going to be affected in ways beyond our current comprehension. Those with a strong constitution may be able to face the entirety of the new budget proposals of East Devon District Council, but for the rest of you, I will just highlight a few alarming cuts:

Cease maintaining town clocks and coloured festooned lights

Now we’re not talking about the removal of the town clocks and coloured festooned lights (I believe this implies that the white lights are safe). In many ways, completely destroying them would be preferable. As it stands, the clocks and lights will still be there, just not maintained, serving as haunting reminders to the townspeople of how low we’ve gone.

No planting of hanging baskets or flower beds at gateways to the town

A gateway without beds or baskets? And the Council expects citizens to still be able to walk with their heads held high?

The closure of Littleham public toilets and ending the deep cleaning of toilets.

Now certainly just because we’re in dire straits does not mean that we need to use the loo any less frequently than we did in times of fecund plenty. Our times are so tight that not only are our excretion opportunities more limited but when we do have to go, the toilets will only have been lightly edulcorated. This must surely indicate that we are in crisis mode.

We are a country in distress. People, friends, citizens of one of the top six or seven countries in the world—please keep these devastating effects of the economic downturn in mind when making your decision at the ballot box.  Think of those poor people of Sidmouth, unable to look at flowers falling from baskets as they rush to unhygienic public conveniences while being unsure if the town clock is correct. The government is chosen by the people for the people. Choose wisely.