WHAT WOULD DANNY DYER SAY? The former worst-ever Prime Minister of the UK, David Cameron, has surfaced. His weedy blathering about a manifesto promise only confirms that he remains a weapons-grade twat.
It’s a common theme. John Redwood is firing off rancid missives as though it’s still 2016. David Davis has demonstrated that he still can’t negotiate his way out of a paper bag. By expressing surprise at a Conservative government breaking its promises, Cameron merely confirms his twattiness.
Cameron had a chance. A chance to be decent. A chance to stand up for moderation and British values. Instead he allowed the lunatic fringe to dictate the narrative, and look where we are now. And instead of being strong and admitting he was wrong, or ordering a sensible and mature debate, he ran away. Bravely. To his man-shed, to “write his memoirs”. Twat.
It is a shame to be reminded of the moon-faced idle rich pig-fancying posh boy who pushed the country on its path to rack and ruin. Especially as the current incumbent is another moon-faced idle rich pig-fancying posh boy who pushes the country on its path to rack and ruin.
In between these two over-privileged, under-talented oafs, was the equally unlamented Theresa May. She tried to run the country like a prefect who lacked the charm to become Head Girl. Never good enough, she was bookended by the type of shallow chancer who gets involved in student societies right up to the point where they snag an executive position. Twats.
A better man than Cameron might have been remembered for the unfortunate pig incident and the poncy gypsy wagon alone. But Cameron bequeathed the country with the Brexit time bomb, and scuttled away immediately after lighting the fuse. Twat.
The poison has penetrated deeply. Let’s hope for better times, when the likes of Nigel Farage will be consigned to the fringes where they belong, and be called out for what they are. Twats.