Written in the Prophecies. Or on Scratchcards: Thoughts on an Election #6

Last weekend I watched as some local Dickensian urchins senselessly vandalised the front garden of a harmless, little old man. They were stomping on pot plants, urinating in the ornamental pond, ripping up the herbaceous border, and I chased them away but only with the implicit threat of a minority Labour administration propped up by … Continue reading Written in the Prophecies. Or on Scratchcards: Thoughts on an Election #6

Boris Johnson’s Offspring Numberwang: Thoughts on an Election #5

How many children does the prime minister have? No-one seems to know. Not even the prime minister. All the womens, they want a go on BoJo’s upstanding member. Little Lord FauntleFuck, his tickle stick primed and ready. Does he tour the country in a Luton van, a stained mattress in the back? He pulls to … Continue reading Boris Johnson’s Offspring Numberwang: Thoughts on an Election #5

Nothing Can Divide Us (apart from the Heptagonal Shrapnel in our Bloody Foreheads): Thoughts on an Election #2

On election day in 2010, Nigel Farage had his plane crash. It was funny and also rubbish – two things that a plane crash shouldn’t be. In the February of 2019, Ross Thompson, the former Conservative member for Aberdeen South, got drunk in a House of Commons bar and started grabbing men’s genitals. Which ran … Continue reading Nothing Can Divide Us (apart from the Heptagonal Shrapnel in our Bloody Foreheads): Thoughts on an Election #2

All the Pretty Things are Going to Hell: Thoughts on Brexit, and the Election.

The other day, on the pedestrianised bit of the High Street, an elderly, constipated gentleman whom I did not know dropped his trousers, and there, amidst the shoppers and the vape stores and the hordes of canvassing Evangelical Christians, he began to squat. With a grimace on his face and perspiration on his brow the … Continue reading All the Pretty Things are Going to Hell: Thoughts on Brexit, and the Election.