THE BLUE MONDAY IS COMMONLY referred to nowadays as the most depressing day of the year. The moment upon which this day falls has been worked out with the scientific precision that one expects from people who make money working these things out and publishing them in newspapers such as The Guardian or The Daily Mirror, but close examination of the mathematics behind this formula reveals a lack of sense and sensibility that not even a Rosetta Stone positing Guardian-Mirror-speak next to regular language would be capable of explaining.
YET THE STRAIGHTFORWARD COME-UPPANCE awaiting a hefty tranche of our good leaders from the lower House of Parliament will come this weekend, and they will not need clever formulae to help them work out what is the darkest day of their lives. For some of them it will be, as the Whitsuntide Bank Holiday, the first time they have had to go “back to the patch” to face the music for a long time. Indeed, some of our representatives may have been thinking of doing what they normally do on Bank Holiday weekends: telling the wife/girlfriend/boyfriend (depending on the party) that they would be working late, and slipping off to a northern French channel port with their secretaries and attempting to have sex with them. And failing miserably because of too much Port.
TODAY THESE COCKY MP’s will be sipping on their avant fracas, some of them for the last time, and wondering how it all went wrong. In their constituency meetings on Monday, many of them will find out. Suicides are expected. The Archbishop of Canterbury has even stepped in to ask the population not to “grate on” too much, as this will “upset moral”. The mood in the Shires, however, seems to be calling for blood to be spilt. And some of this will be expected from “thieving toad” Andrew Mackay, the worst of the bunch of daylight robbers we have seen to be caught out. Whether he gets stabbed in the back by his local party officials or in the stomach by the voters, blood will flow. Or perhaps gin.
YET THE STRAIGHTFORWARD COME-UPPANCE awaiting a hefty tranche of our good leaders from the lower House of Parliament will come this weekend, and they will not need clever formulae to help them work out what is the darkest day of their lives. For some of them it will be, as the Whitsuntide Bank Holiday, the first time they have had to go “back to the patch” to face the music for a long time. Indeed, some of our representatives may have been thinking of doing what they normally do on Bank Holiday weekends: telling the wife/girlfriend/boyfriend (depending on the party) that they would be working late, and slipping off to a northern French channel port with their secretaries and attempting to have sex with them. And failing miserably because of too much Port.
TODAY THESE COCKY MP’s will be sipping on their avant fracas, some of them for the last time, and wondering how it all went wrong. In their constituency meetings on Monday, many of them will find out. Suicides are expected. The Archbishop of Canterbury has even stepped in to ask the population not to “grate on” too much, as this will “upset moral”. The mood in the Shires, however, seems to be calling for blood to be spilt. And some of this will be expected from “thieving toad” Andrew Mackay, the worst of the bunch of daylight robbers we have seen to be caught out. Whether he gets stabbed in the back by his local party officials or in the stomach by the voters, blood will flow. Or perhaps gin.
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