I’M YOUR VICEROY
What an arrogant, puffed up, self-important little man he is.
In the strange world of today, blessed as we are with a lying, delusional moron as president of the United States of America and a Britain ripping itself out of the European Union, the largest richest trading block in the world, and going who knows where, under the “direction” of a disparate bunch of idiots who seem to have no idea what they are doing… and in any case are all doing whatever it is differently, it has become increasingly difficult to take seriously any of the what now passes for news.
In fact, I read earlier today that Private Eye is no longer as funny as it once was. Presumably this is because it’s impossible to put a ‘funnier’ spin on the already hilariously ridiculous news.
Today, we heard that David Davis thinks that, while MPs will get the chance to debate the terms of Brexit deal (or one of the different kinds of no deal that he imagines to be possible), it might actually have to happen after the deed is done and dusted. By which time, of course, it will be impossible to make changes and any vote would be as much of a waste of time as the one which they had on Universal Credit. Bravo, David.
Then we find out that Harry Windsor has been on a charm offensive to Denmark. The government, being lumbered with Boris Johnson as Foreign Secretary, has decided to use the Windsors to do his job. Well, I suppose they have to do something for all that money.
Additionally, Willie and Kate and Charles and Cammy have been sent off at various times recently, to visit various parts of Europe. This is apparently designed to make the Europeans feel kindly disposed to the English or Brits or whatever. Note that H\rry arrived in a private jet, so heaven knows what the cost of this jolly is.
Still, it has to be better than sending grandpa!
I’ve just read too, that the only semi-sentient Defence Secretary SIR Hic Fallon has told the Defence Committee: “I have to repeat, sadly, to this committee that criticism of Saudi Arabia in this parliament is not helpful”.
Fallon claimed that criticism of Saudi Arabia in Parliament was the reason that a large order for Eurofighter Typhoon Jets to the barbaric kingdom was being held up.
Well, we’re bloody sorry. Who are we to be spoiling Britains chance to sell these people more weaponry to kill Yemen kids, or indeed to arm whatever other rebels they arm? (Ask Boris.) Stop being nasty about the royal Saudi thugs.
It will come as no surprise that the waste of space that inhabits the cabinet chair marked “Secretary of State against Scotland and for Making May’s Tea” was unable to tell us what new powers would be coming to Scotland… just as he was unable to explain why, as powers keep being given back to Scotland, it has been necessary for him to boost his staff from 5 to over 70.
His only function is to represent Scotland’s interests in London. He has now 15 times the staff numbers available to him to do this. And yet, having promised a raft of new powers, he is unable to name one of them. NOT ONE. What on earth use is he, or indeed is his Noble Friend the Under Secretary so recently and with indecent haste raised to the aristocracy when he lost an election? (You Jocks didn’t vote for him, but we’ll make him your overlord anyway! Sod this democracy lark!)
And all that is before I’ve even had a chance to find out what kind of tomfoolery the orange baboon has been up to today.
May even ignores Scottish Tories.
It seems to me that Colonel Davidson’s glory days were short lived. When the Tories became the opposition in Scotland and then won seats in the UK elections, Ruth was the all conquering hero; the golden girl. She could do no wrong.
Then came the deal with Foster.
Who knows if buoyed by all her successes (and I know that not only didn’t she win anything, in fact, she trailed a dismal second to Nicola Sturgeon and the SNP in both Edinburgh and London, but it was, without doubt, considerable progress), perhaps she became a bit cheeky with May. It’s hard not to get above yourself when you’ve been relatively successful and your smart ass boss has just made a monumental idiot of hersel;f.
When May had to bribe Foster to the tune of between £1 billion and £1.5 billion to keep herself in power, after her disastrous attempt to show Europe just how strong, stable and red, white and blue she was, there is no doubt that Colonel Davidson was not best pleased.
Davidson made the clear to May, quite rightly, that she wouldn’t tolerate any of the DUP’s loonie right wing, orange, religious claptrap bigotry, and she did it very publicly. Although to be fair there has yet to be any stoning of gays, or beheading those who have had abortions since the DUP have been keeping the Tories in power (so Ruth may have been heeded) it seems that her star has been somewhat diminished.
And now May’s stuttering, stumbling toady second in command has made it clear that he (read May) doesn’t give a fig what the rt honourable and gallant lady thinks about desperately needed immigration to Scotland, the UK government is going to press ahead with what England wants.
In the meantime, Mundell made it clear that he wouldn’t allow Northern Ireland to get a shedload of dosh while Scotland got nothing, shortly after which he appeared to suffer from some sort of amnesia on the subject. Arlene got loads of money and an RAF flight home to Belfast, while Nicola Sturgeon was told to use the tradesman’s entrance when she called, and speak to the parlour maid.
I suppose it would be fair to say that a number of the Tory MPs elected in Scotland were thus chosen because of the Tory hard line on the EU. North East Fishing communities have long considered that the EU quota system to have been responsible for a decline in their living standards. Leaving the EU and getting them their fishing rights back was Tory policy.
Note the tense of the verb.
Because, a couple of weeks ago, Wee Govey took himself off to Denmark to reassure the Danes that, of course, they would be able to fish in Scottish waters after the UK left Europe. (Having your cod and eating it?) There was some notion that we actually couldn’t cope with all these fish on our own. Too wee, too poor and too stupid again, I guess
So, yes, the Tories are certainly fighting hard… it’s just that it’s with each other, and not for Scotland.
We were very tolerant towards your lesser self in the early stages of our taking over the top job at the centre of the Empire at No 10 Downing Street, London ENGLAND. We think we may even have done you the honour of visiting you in your bedsit at Bute Cottage in Aberburgh, although, of course, we do not recall.
However, following our tremendous and spectacular General Election victory, and now that we have grown in stature in our position as triumphant leader of OUR United Kingdom and become close to world statesmen such as Mr Netenyahu and Mr Erdogan, not to mention HRH Excellency Trump and His Majesty King Salman, we feel that further discussion with a junior minister of a mere district would be inappropriate. Besides which, as I am now busily (and successfully) engaged in a red, white and blue Brexit, which means Brexit (including for your district) so that Britain can take back control of everything from the foreigners who are out to get us British people, I’m simply too busy to be bothered with inferiors.
It has been decided, therefore, that if you have anything that you wish to discuss with your superiors here at Empire Central, in our great capital city of London, you should address those matters with the Rt Hon David Mud… Mund… well, you know who I mean, and of course, if you can find her (she seems to have gone walkabout since Ms Arlene and I struck up a friendship) the Rt Hon and Gallant Lady, Colonel Davidson. Alternatively, you may try to approach the Noble Lord Duncan in his Baronial Castle, although I understand that he doesn’t much like commoners. A curtsey is appropriate.
You will not, any longer, be allowed to address yourself directly to us personally, and we intend to instruct the queen that she is no longer to grant you an audience, but must hold herself always in readiness for any occasion on which we wish to have a photo-opportunity with her, or get her to open our parliament.
Do not let any of that make you feel any less important than you already are.
Rule Britannia. God save the Queen and Theresa May
Her Britannic Empr , sorry, Prime Ministerialness
Signed per pro
in her absence.
(Note to Cabinet Secretary: Send same sort of thing to that Welsh blokey, and the people in IOM, Channel Islands, and Gibraltar, Falklands and the rest of my empire. DO NOT ON ANY ACCOUNT SEND TO BELFAST on pain of death.)
When it comes to saying something stupid, you can always trust Muddle. According to him, the new Tory MPs from Scotland are going to represent people who voted no to independence.
And there was me thinking that they were obliged to represent ALL the people in their constituency, old and young, black or white, Scottish or English, unionist or independentist, Tory or Liberal, whatever.
Maybe Mr Muddle could supply a list of alternative MPs who will be available for people in these Tory constituencies (including his own) who are supporters of a free Scotland. And hopefully, he will bring ‘his influence’ (snigger) to bear to overturn the rules that say that MPs may not deal with issues from people from without their constituencies.
In the meantime, Mrs May proved that once you have become known as an incompetent clumsy, useless idiot there is simply nothing that will go right for you. She should ask Gordon Brown. He knows all about that.