Have found myself hopelessly torn between my old muckers Labour and that relentless young pup, insufferable creature that it is, the Lib Dems. It’s been a knock-out, stand up fight all summer long and as the winter nights draw in I find I must declare a winner and yet I still can’t seem to to bring myself to jump. And so I sit, on this nice fence I’ve constructed for the very purpose of surveying all those around me. (Could do with lick of paint though.)
Beloved Television Pundits,
I shall not be drawn into naming the gloopy miasma that serves as either the rebirth of this once great party or the mudpool in which it slowly asphyxiates. I don’t believe all is lost for the Reds yet. However, a vote from me for Labour would indeed be somewhat a vote against the Blue Team and I find negative voting ever so slightly abhorrent. So it’s not Labour or die. It’s not the ‘shambolic’ Libs (your word) or die either.
Love, The Left Leaning Long Distance Writer xx
Would like to be shown something to believe in. Would not like the font of nothing that our cousins seem to have elected though; it seems 300,000 coins in the wishing well answer no prayers.
Oh, the horrors; a political post (lite) and I thought I wrote fluff; I was going to tell all about my diet but must leave that for tomorrow.
