My Ire Is Rising

My blood’s temperature is rising. My God, is it ever.

I haven’t blogged for ages and ages because I felt all angered out. Utterly dire though the situation that this country funds itself in might be, I thought I’d run out of things to feel completely hacked off about. I thought I couldn’t possibly, under any circumstances, get any more incensed than I already am.

And then Nick Clegg turned up.

Nick bloody Clegg, so-called leader of the most pompous, cynical, self-righteous, wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing and blatantly hypocritical political party on Earth, rises from the gutter like the new Tony Blair and suddenly Britain’s media luvvies are crawling all over each other to laud him as the Nation’s New Saviour. Which he isn’t. The BBC, who have been spinning desperately for a hung parliament all year, think all their Christmases have come at once. Which they might have.

I’m telling you now: if we end up with a hung parliament where Clegg’s Liberals hold the balance of power I am going to be very cross indeed. If David Cameron gets into bed with him and sells out everything that the Conservative party is supposed to stand for and so allows that slippery, scheming little piece of shit and his cohorts places at the Cabinet table, then I am going to be absolutely fucking livid.

And if instead Clegg and his obnoxious, holier-than-thou, we’re-whiter-than-white, narcissistic nannies do a deal with their spiritual Labour sole-mates and keep that thieving, incompetent, snarling Scottish Stalinist in Downing Street then I’m going to go off the scale.

Lib Dems atop the opinion polls ? The country is going absolutely, 100 per cent, stark raving mad. But not half as mad as I’m going to be if this ends up where I think it’s going.

You have been warned.