Election Notes 2024: E-Day +1

Usually, I stop writing these blogs quite soon after the election result has been announced because, well…it normally reverts back to business as usual, but just with some newer passengers riding the gravy train.

But, much like in 1997, I think Plonker will do exactly the same thing but in newer, worse version. Then we imagined that all Labours pledges that they’d stick to Tory spending plans, wouldn’t reverse anti-union legislation and would press ahead with more privatisation was just there to woo wavering Tory voters to trust them. It was a bluff, once in office….oh you weren’t bluffing, you really did mean those things?

I suspect Plonker will do the same, except it won’t be him will it? He’ll be speaking other peoples words, and as I alluded to in a previous post, those people are the ideological activist zealots, which have successfully embedded themselves in the Labour Party I can’t trust anyone who once believed that 99.9% of women didn’t have a penis, certainly not one who chooses what to believe and then what to unbelieve depending on calculations of expediency. He’s as trustworthy as an unlicensed butcher

But last night I got a bit too champagne-tastic. So maybe in a day or so.

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Obviously I wrote that yesterday evening, before fizz bucked me up.

One of the problems with drinking is that when you don’t do it on a regular basis, your tolerance for alcohol collapses, which can be your fate if you think it a good idea to drink a whole bottle of champagne, on a stomach fortified with crisps and not much else.

I woke this afternoon with my mouth feeing like the bottom of a parrots cage, everything being much too brig bright after some bastard thought it a good idea to start using an angle grinder or some other invention of Beelzebub in a nearby garden seemingly moments after I’d fallen asleep. And I’d only gone to bed in the first place because the remote for the TV had going on the blink. So I missed both Lettuces’ and the Honourable Member for the 18th Century’s own Portillo moments. But I got see to Grant Shatts and Penny Lessthans have theirs so, you know, swings and roundabouts.

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What is it with (former) Conservative MPs and stupid names?

I mean Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson is one thing, but Richard Grosvenor Plunkett-Ernle-Erle-Drax?

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