...when the revolution comes.

The Reactionary Snob muses who he would put first against the wall when the revolution comes, and his choices seem to me to be excellent in every respect. Go and have a read - anyone who calls the ferret faced Hazel Blears "the Capo de Capi of New Labour Harridan cunt-witches" has a way with profane prose. And I would agree with his selections, but would have to add one more person. A person who does not just deserve to be first against the wall, but who actually deserves to be pulled apart by a pack of rabid, wild dogs. A person so odious that the depths of hatred I feel for him scare me slightly. And who is that person? Why, Simon Hughes, of course.

Why? Well, put simply Simon Hughes is a cunt. He is a lisping, preening, pseudo-leftie prig who deserves to drown in his own urine. Not only does he give the Liberal Democrats a bad name, but he gives the British people a bad name and indeed the human race as a whole. He is self serving, hypocritical tosser who deserves to have his lips stapled shut and be zapped with a high voltage electric cattle prod ever time he dares to try to open that effluent spouting, malformed mouth of his.

The evidence? Well, let's look at the 1983 campaign in Southwark. I have no problem with Hughes being bisexual - frankly he can prefer the company of goats for all I care. It is the hypocrisy that gets to me. He ran a homophobic campaign against Tatchell. Look at the election leaflets. And please don't come back with any crap about how Hughes didn't know about it, or didn't mean it. You know why? He apologised for it. And people don't apologise for stuff they haven't done. Hughes ran a vitriolic, hate-filled campaign to win his seat. He proved himself to be intolerant of his own sexuality. And this from a supposed Liberal.

And this is a Lib Dem who whispers against his leaders. He was instrumental (although not as much as Minger Campbell) in the fall of Charlie K, and was trying to stab Ming the Merciful in the back just months after he was elected leader. He is power hungry, but cannot even win the leadership of a minority party in spite of repeated attempts. There is the old story told by William Jennings Byran about not running for the Presidency of the United States again after three defeats - the story of the drunk who goes into a bar, gets thrown out, stands up, goes back in again, gets thrown out, stands up, goes back in again only to be thrown out for the third time. Then the tramp stands up, dusts himself down, and says to a passer-by "you know what, maybe they don't want me in there". Hughes doesn't even have the self awareness of the drunk in that story - the only way to stop him from undermining his leaders and to stop him running for the leadership again is for the Lib Dem leadership to drag him outside, beat him half to death with baseball bats, stuff him in a sack full of bricks and dump him in the river. It is only then - when he is drowning in the feculent water of the Thames - that he might get the hint that he is not wanted as leader.

Hughes is quoted as saying that he has considered marriage but has not found anyone willing to marry him. Frankly I am not fucking surprised - marrying Hughes would be a life sentence - not just the crushing boredom of being married to such a sanctimonious twat but also the literal life sentence passed down by a high court judge on whoever would be unlucky enough to be his spouse after they have run him through with a kitchen knife for not being able to talk anything other than utter bollocks.