Such a prescient, beautiful sentiment.

Saturday, 2 April 2011

At First

I Thought He Was OK.

In my naivete, I thought to do some good,
I joined my local Tories, as any decent would,
I pounded streets and posted stuff,
To tell what good we do.

I avidly soaked up the words,
Believed the deeds to be,
I even thought we really had,
An OK, even nice MP.

Then as the years passed by,
The scales began to drop,
Fall from my eyes then to reveal,
I was just another clot.

Another puerile slogger,
A patsy, mug and sop,
My task, solely to be, the flogger  
Of unseemly wares,
Of yet another posing fop.

So, dear citizens all,
Wake up and you will see,
This expenses fiddle will go on,
For all eternity.

Unless, of course, we think and choose,
See them for what they steal,
From you and me.

Then say and ask,
How many cameras do you need,
What pictures do you mask,
Or hide from all to see?

Enough, I say, of thieving fools,
Their stooges and their slaves.
Let them sink below the waves,
Of their smelly, corrupt and nasty ways.

Rise up you people in the North,
Force them to bend to an honest whip,
Let not a facile charming quip,
Deflect you from that one big chance,
Be rid of them,
Vote in UKIP!

It is time for a new revulsion to be aired about it all. The broken promises to reform from Pseudo Dave and Cleggy Clot are just more lies and nastiness. Get angry and FFS WAKE UP and fight.

Of course our MPs are just amateurs, training for the really big events.


  1. It was not part of their blood,
    It came to them very late,
    With long arrears to make good,
    When the English began to hate

    They were not easily moved,
    They were icy willing to wait
    Till every count should be proved,
    Ere the English began to hate.

    Their voices were even and low,
    Their eyes were level and straight.
    There was neither sign nor show,
    When the English began to hate.

    It was not preached to the crowd,
    It was not taught by the State.
    No man spoke it aloud,
    When the English began to hate.

    It was not suddenly bred,
    It will not swiftly abate,
    Through the chill years ahead,
    When shall count from the date
    That the English began to hate.

    - Rudyard Kipling

  2. Anon, thank you. it's getting there!

  3. Is it an offence to declare that one wishes to shoot a load of buck-shot through the guts of every Parliamentarian in office today?