Holiday Time for *Hard Working* Leaders

It is that time of year again when politicians fuck off away from London, to spend their unearned money on pampering their poor little souls for all the hard work they don’t do in the House of Commons throughout the year. Part of me is happiest when Parliament is in recess. At least they won’t be passing any other stupid, shitty laws to further fuck-up and restrict our lives.

But it does mean one hundred and one articles appear, each more tedious that then last, discussing where the party leaders are going to holiday. Like this one. Seriously, does anyone really fucking care where Gordon Brown is going to spend his summer? Is it essential to know where young Hug A Husky Cameron is taking his family this year? And given he is completely irrelevant for the rest of the year, why the ruddy fuck would you care where Calamity Clegg spends his holidays?

It is like all those disapproving articles that appeared when it became clear that Tony Blair was always going to sponge off second rate celebrities to get foreign holidays. Their tone was all the same – “what does it say about our (then) Prime Minister given he holidays abroad at the expense of others?” Well, it says that he a publicity seeking, self-serving cunt of the highest order. But seriously, that’s news? Really? There was a plethora of reasons to show just what a ghastly person Blair was as Prime Minister (and, no doubt, still is). If you need confirmation of what a total fucker that man was through seeing where he holidays, you are, quite frankly, dumb.

Although, maybe there is a reason why it is good to know where Gordon Brown is going to be taking his holiday. If only so you can avoid that area like the fucking plague. I mean, just imagine it. You’ve worked hard all year, and you have really been looking forward to your holiday. You arrive at the beach, lie down, sunbathe, have a bit of a nap. When you wake up, you roll over and see non-other than Gordo, lying on the beech in his frayed speedos, looking for all the world like a anaemic beached whale, his saggy tits slowly roasting from exposure to the sun that he normally avoids at all costs? You’d want to destroy yourself. You run out into the sea, and swim until you could swim no more, and the salty sea saves you from reliving the most disgusting vision you have ever seen by taking you down to the cold, watery depths of the ocean.

Actually, that image really is a step too far. Sorry. Anyway, I’m off to bathe my brain in bleach to destroy the image of Brown sunbathing forever…