Election postards 2024: #Snuffeditonthe4thofJuly

Losing date announced by loser.

SIMON LINCOLN READER

Londonistan

Shortly it will be announced that the UK General Election will be held on July 4th. I know, I know – Tom Cruise’s character in the eponymous film repurposed to suit a shagged-out, traditionless society.

I haven’t been very kind about Rishi Sunak – and it’s only going to get worse I’m afraid. The diminutive smart-alec (excel, PowerPoint) is clearly buoyed by “promising” economy metrics released yesterday (inflation has indeed declined, nowhere near as rapidly as it should have) and believes that this news will suddenly reverse the loathing. Tonight he will fire up the posh totty at central office – and tomorrow you’ll have to swallow what lands in your inbox. It will be these poor bastards and bastard-esses charged with crisscrossing the country, handing out platters of bacon sandwiches and mugs of tea, fluffling the stage for the arrival of man who will squeak in his little trousers, hemmed just above the ankle, “Britain has a great story to tell!”

This past weekend only ~13k South Africans in the UK voted. Disappointing, sure, but train tickets were only £773.80 one way from Newcastle – so you can understand a man’s reluctance to mortgage his home, or sell one of his children, just to exercise his democratic obligation (plus its not particularly nice to find oneself in cubes courtesy of a machete skirmish between warring Ethiopians and Eritreans). Thankfully, this confirmed my long suspicion: we actually all came here to get poorer, become stupid, be called racist, convert to Islam and eventually join a terror network.

Mark my words: before midnight on 5th of July, Rishi will be seen boarding BA55 to LAX doing a bad job of hiding his disgust: that’ll be the last bloody time he’ll have to stomach the peasantry of flying commercial 1st Class – from here on it will only be Gulf Streams from the Infosys fleet. From Santa Monica will come pictures of the Sunak family walking on the beach in loose white linen, like Google Gemini’s interpretation of a contemporary Michael Bolton music video. When he becomes just another English knob in California, he’ll have weaned himself off his coca-cola habit (currently: only 12 cans a day) – and replaced it with the kind of stuff his fellow expats get up to.