High temperature drivel

[smokingboot]

I’m not well. But there’s nothing like a temperature of flu dimensions to make things clear in one’s head.

1) Justin Timberlake is an animated kagool.

2) The Britney ft Madonna song is no damn good.

3) Sugababes lyrics make no sense, ever.

4) Inexplicably, sometimes Britpol is more interesting than Britpop.

All day I’ve been watching the waltz of Tory sharks around the corpse of their erstwhile leader. The Tories are so much better at this than Labour. Labour’s internal disputes always smack of the trash family down the road; the one where they row too publicly from bedroom window to front garden, screaming drunk, swearing and tearful, only to self-consciously justify themselves in the morning. Tories have far more elegant and deadly domestics, secret stabbings punctuated with a few choicely worded regrets for the punters. I love ‘em.

You don’t get this kind of entertainment every day. The parliamentary Tories, contrary to their activists across the country, desire a leader with a chance of winning the election. Their last flirtation with democracy resulted in IDS becoming their leader, and I doubt they’ll be making that mistake again. The hour of Howard draws near. Not that I particularly mind Howard. He’s clearly not a complete idiot, and I am a believer that Tony’s therapy can only be helped by the presence of a competent opposition. Widdicombe described Howard as having ‘Something of the night’ about him. Now, I’ll concede he’s a sinister little bodkin, but compared to the homunculus horror of La Cook, or even Widdicombe herself, with her what-the-hell-is-it-Spock shock value, Howard’s almost presentable.

Why are politicians all so ugly? Tony started out this sparkly eyed boychile, only to degenerate into a gigantic killer bee with flip-top wife. Gordon Brown, always something of a puffin, now looks like the Pilsbury dough boy. Conversely since her fall from grace, Edwina Currie has turned into a brilliant eyed woman, all sunny smiles and tousled hair. This is she who once entered the embrace of the grey man. Willingly. No wonder her curls were tight.

I feel really light headed. Little sleep and a high temperature generally ensures me a choice of strange half-dreams. After today’s crap on telly, I’m ready to count them as real entertainment.

Comments

[smokingboot.livejournal.com]

I do feel grim. But can I survive without the game? It's been so long! My other fear is of infecting everyone...don't know what to do!