8 days is not a long time. Try living in the UK.
(This was an axed Smiths line.)
You may have been bored before you even began, Morrissey, but it isn’t going to stop me from writing about this bloody election before you can ruin it with some ill advised remarks about terrorism.

Anyway, the reason I bring up the 8 day mark is because I’ve only gown and mailed my postal vote to the wrong address. It’s a good job I’m not in charge of the country. Lets hope its enough time for my postal vote to arrive here, get filled in and then get sent off again. It will have to be first class. There is bound to be a joke about the nationalisation of the post, or how first class is the only way to get things done but I’m too worried and feckless to make it. Much like the British electorate on polling day perhaps. There you go, a bad joke, now down to the serious stuff.

Corbyn looks and acts increasingly like a leader. Except that moment on Womens hour when he used an ipad. A real socialist would use an android.

Sightings have been reported of Theresa May, though mainly in the Scottish heartlands, as we know the most common area for UFO reports. UFO in this instance meaning utterly fucking obvious. Or Umbrella faced oaf. Or Undiscovered fried onion. Or Unified Fail Organiser.

Yes.

Unified Fail Organiser. For that is what it will be.
According to the polls Corbyns challenge, or the opposition as it is now known, has been strong. And where it will leave them? Precisely nowhere. The Tory government will succeed, in doing very little other than proving their incredible foot-shooting abilities and strong and stable slogan makers. However, it won’t be enough to form a government. Which will come as a surprise to everyo…strong and stable.
“Well then, these opposition parties who have disrupted the apple cart time and again, they will be the victors?!” Again, no. They will be at the foot of the apple cart, drinking the rotten scrumpy run off which will cause this election to be a right off. The SNP cannot succeed more than last time without flying Scotland single-handedly to the moon, where Central Belters will finally spot Earth.
Ukip will take some of the vote, such a worrying concept that we cannot and will not joke about it. The Green party will see a slight wave of support but as it rightly left seats uncontested it is unlikely to make any real gains, except the gains of the heart to which we owe them sincere gratitude. Lib Dem will claw back some of the angry leavers, which is what they used to call their voters before the coalition. Plaid Cymru.

So where are we left?

In the jungle. Swinging through the jungle, naked and alone. Below us are the marginal snarling beast of the jungle and to our side is the once tall conservative tree. We are swinging freely and carelessly, we reach out our hand to the hanging vine ahead of us and grab it, only to our shock to find it is a hissing snake. Are we reaching for the vine of the often fabled money tree or for the branch of coalition, no, it is the hissing snake of a hung parliament. The wilting tree may be propped up by this snake, the carefree Jez of the Jungle taken down. It is almost impossible to tell as this metaphor lost clarity sometime ago. Perhaps the video above actually does a good job of describing politics.

What is clear is the stupendously idiotic place we find ourselves in, swinging through the… Sorry. What is clear, is that this election has accomplished nothing for politics in the UK in such a pivotal time. What we need is a strong and… WHERE the fuck did that come from? What we need is proportional representation, for an independent Scotland which has an equal and fair press.
But if we can’t have that, a further groundswell of Labour momentum would be pretty good. There is hope, but remember the corpse of the fallen Miliband lies in the elephant boneyard next to the ailing tree. Sorry, I’m confusing my disney survivalist films. All I mean to say is that the polls have lied before.

Lastly, Theresa May has lied before. To her credit though, as far as I’m aware she is the only incumbent Prime minister to hold a number one. She would say this either way. She is definately the only one I’d trust in the Breurovison song contest though. On that note, expect to see her on the tele, coked up to the eyeballs spewing slogans and learned phrases like they’re fertilizing her precious black muck potions which she mixes using only her own bodily fluids to touch up the door of 10 downing street ‘paint’. This election may well come down to Question Time on Friday and I for one am looking forward to it. But then I quite often look forward to it, I write a blog about an election which shouldn’t be happening which nobody reads. Bring on Question time, I say.

Mr Hummels

P.S. – I’d love to hear your thoughts on the below issue

Shoplifters of the world < Liar, Liar < Shipbuilding

Sorry, it’s just such a good fucking song.

Here’s another for good measure, and just as topical. And… modern!