It’s been a week that was a tale of two Donald’s, neither of which are a “Happy Meal”, for the people of the world. The car crash presidency stumbles along like a knackered three-wheeled golf cart, stuffed with bloated; factious; wig wearing; knuckle dragging dullards, and now our only hope is impeachment of The Donald, which seems as likely as R2-D2 being able to find a geriatric Jedi in the middle of a desert.
As John Dean, former Whitehouse counsellor to Tricky Dicky Nixon, said, “I am just grateful when I wake up each morning and part of the world hasn’t been destroyed”.
The other Donald of course is Mr Tusk who looks like a Polish version of Rubens Barrichello and seems determined to piss on Theresa May’s chips. Who can blame him, as the deranged logic of Brexit climbs to new levels of insanity. The ‘Great’ repeal act, which apparently can’t be called Great due EU legislation on the straightness of bananas, doesn’t repeal anything, and it actually engrains EU rules into UK law and is clearly contrary to the Trades Description Act, but hey we can still reduce immigration.
Oh hang on…
………so we can’t reduce immigration or scrap EU laws, but we can bugger up access to the single market, bring about the destruction of the United Kingdom and lose Gibraltar. Still at least Nigel Farage can celebrate in a pub, something he clearly has never done in the past. Why journalists flock to see his smug grin and flabby jowls sucking on a cigarette whilst quaffing a pint of Old Bigot truly escapes me, but no doubt it will continue until his heart gives way, assuming he has one.
Still the price of democracy means idiots can vote for idiocy and hey we can all look forward to a new shiny blue passport.
Using it might be a problem though, as the value of the pound means it will soon be cheaper to buy an apartment in Chelsea than afford a weeks B&B in Benidorm.