Regrets, I've had a few

Generally speaking, I have very little time for regrets. There are very few situations in life that I think genuinely warrant the sort of self-pity that comes with regret. Those that do tend to revolve around those moments where you could, in retrospect, have done something great, but it just doesn't quite happen for you. Perhaps because you weren't ready, perhaps because you weren't prepared. I had one such moment today, and my regret is this. That I took a piss before walking home from work.

My walk home from work takes me past the Palaces of Westminster. Idyllic, you might say, especially on a warm spring day like today. Well, yes, I concede, but it can be fucking irritating too. Partly because of the tourists, who insist on stopping every time Big Ben chimes to take a photo (people, you can't hear the chimes on a photo!), but also because of our elected overlords, who are often aided from leaving the building by police officers holding the electorate back as their cars sweep from the Commons, taking with them MPs tired from a big day of fannying around creating needless legislation. Some might say that, as the servant of the people, the MPs should wait until the voters have crossed their driveway before they leave their place of work. I don't agree - the sooner we can get any MP away from the Commons the better, as it reduces their ability to make the aforementioned needless legislation. Plus, if they waited until the path was clear they'd be waiting for ever, what with the constant stream of tourists standing in the way of oncoming traffic to take photos of a sodding bell sodding chiming.

Today, my path was impeded by a car containing an MP. And it was none other than the badger faced cunt himself - Chancellor of the Exchequer Darling. And in the back seat there was a female MP. I think it might have been Harriet Harman, but I can't be sure. What little light that wasn't being sucked into the black holes that make up eyebrows of Darling was being reflected from his shiney hair into my eyes. But what a target for anyone who is a Nu Labour hater!

Imagine if I had not pissed before I left work. I could have pulled open my flies, and deluged the car with a stream of warm, foamy urine. Clever, witty political satire it wouldn't have been. However it would have been an accurate reflection on the status that I - and, I sense, a lot of other people in this country - hold our elected leaders in.

So, dear reader, if you too are a hater of this incumbent government, and are walking near Westminster, please don't make the same mistake as I made. Walk around that area with a full bladder. And then, when you have the chance to show the likes of Darling that you would only piss on them if they weren't on fire, you can rise to the occasion with gusto. Maybe enough people urinate on their vehicles as they pass, then the members of Brown's Cabinet might finally get the message that we really, really don't like them.