It has been a most unedifying week in British politics. For a start, we are at war – again. Two years ago, Dave begged the House of Commons to let him bomb Syria to take out President Assad. He lost that vote after Ed Miliband reneged on his previously-promised support. Two days ago, Dave begged the House of Commons to let him bomb Syria to take out IS (or Dash as Defence Secretary Michael Fallon referred to them, oblivious of the fact that Dash is a clothing firm owned by the Kardashians. Air strikes to take out the Kardashians would get anyone’s vote but sadly that was not an option on offer.) Dave won the vote and within hours, bombs were raining down on some Syrian oil wells. But what happens when we start bombing Raqqa and take out innocent civilians? The citizens of that God-forsaken place can either run away and smuggle themselves on unseaworthy vessels to Europe, whereupon they are damned as being covert terrorists, or stay and either be raped, beheaded or bombed. Britain has no end game, no army to follow through, no strategy other than to be Seen To Be Doing Something. And of course, all our previous ventures into the Middle East have been a triumph. Libya and Iraq are ever so stable, aren’t they? And Afghanistan has worked out a treat. Einstein defined insanity as “doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” The very definition of British Foreign Policy…
Many Labour MPs voted in favour of intervention. WTF profoundly disagrees with them but – unlike our Prime Minister and his reference to those voting against military action as “terrorist sympathisers” – she respects their right to hold that view. She therefore deplores the nasty bullying attacks on them and threats of deselection by Jezza’s little helpers, egged on by Ken Livingstone, from whom a prolonged period of silence would be welcome. Labour is becoming less credible by the minute and Livingstone a profound embarrassment and liability. Meanwhile, over at Tory HQ, there has been a coverup for vile bully Mark Clarke, who allegedly drove a young party activist to his death but was sheltered from a barrage of complaints by party members claiming all manner of abuses at his hands. Former Chairman, slime bucket Grant Shapps did not so much fall on his sword as get skewered by it whilst his c0-Chair, Lord Feldman, maintains his role despite there not being an iota of difference between their respective responsibilities. It is amazing how far an old Brasenose College tie, a strategically placed tongue near the Prime Ministerial back bottom and a finely honed backhand, can get you….
Let us escape into the wondrous world of fashion disasters, starting with ex-Corrie actress Lucy-Jo Hudson wearing House of CB.
Yikes. A diarrhoea-coloured jumpsuit with a giant tit window showcasing wonky breasts. And it is very snug over the unmentionables. Meanwhile, if there was ever a pictorial quintessence of the the phrase lollipop-head, Lucy-Jo is it. Frightful.
To the ARIAS, the Australian Music Awards, where nonsense was in abundance. Goodness knows what this lot thought they were doing. We start with Egyptian-born, Australian-bred oud player Joseph Tawadros.
No. Just no. Sydney Greenstreet in Casablanca wears Paisley. Shocking.
Next, we have the Sheppard sisters Emma (blonde hair) and Amy (green hair), together comprising popular singing troupe Sheppard, both wearing boots by Jaime Lee.
What the fuck are those boots? Those boots are entirely insane.
The sisters’ legs are being consumed by beasties, cut-price gargoyles in a Chinese Christmas wholesalers. Would you wear those boots? I think not….
And there was eccentric “music artist” Charles Corby.
WTF would be a liar if she said she knew what was going on here, but it appears that Charles is channelling a Victorian Angel Gabriel in his under-crackers. It gives Ding Dong Merrily On High a whole new meaning….
We travel to LA to meet Miley Cyrus looking raving mad. So no change there…
Oh dear. A bondage enthusiast out painting and decorating. And where is the other sock?
Here is actress Kristen Stewart wearing Chanel.
Kristen’s trousers make her look like a stocky sailor simulating a sofa. They also appear to give her a paunch, which she does not have whilst the top looks like it has shrunk in the wash. Chanel? Really?
We now visit the Cosmopolitan Ultimate Women Awards in London where we encounter singer Perrie Edwards from hit girl group Little Mix wearing PA5H, yours for only £2,750. Undies extra.
Oh dear. All the tabloids and magazines declared that Perrie was showing her farouche former fiancé, One Direction‘s Zayn Malik, what he was missing after he ditched her to canoodle with model Gigi Hadid. But what is he missing? A bra and a pair of giant panties that Bridget Jones would have rejected, worn over a diamanté mosquito net. Extra minus points for the Croydon facelift ponytail and the eyelashes like a pantomime cow.
Also at the event was the über-ghastly celebritee Mylene Klass, wearing, er, Myleene Klass for Littlewoods.
WTF cannot stand Myleene who is the worst sort of self-publicist, eking out a little talent with a touch of tit. And, as we now see, even more……
Peekaboo arse. Klassy.
This week’s It’s Got To Go is America’s Gun Laws. Yet again, a hapless, angry President Obama was forced to bemoan the fact that his Congress is determined to uphold the inalienable right of US Citizens to shoot strangers at random for any or no particular reason. The latest outrage happened on Wednesday in San Bernardino, California, when Sayed Raznim Farook and his new bride Tafsheen Malik opened fire at an office party with automatic weapons, lobbing in a few pipe bombs for good measure. It has happened before and it will happen again until America gets its House in order….
OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. The comments last week were excellent although a fight seems to have broken out between commentators, so do not stint on new contributions or your splendid suggestions for It’s Got To Go. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good x