Please rescue me first Patsy (and wear the spikey boots)

Oh, rapture! Oh, joy! Be still my beating heart! It’s Patsy to the rescue!

Just as I though I’d never see that beautiful face or hear that slightly whiny schoolmarmish voice again, my beloved pops up to save us all from the Evil Clunking Fist Brown. She’s going to cajole and persuade and twist arms and call in favours and rally support and FINALLY persuade the Labour Party to grow some testicles and get rid of the useless arse.

It’s going to be the best back-bench revolt ever!!

Serves him right for being so horrible to her when he took over as PM, after she very kindly offered to help out with the government by being Chancellor of the Exchequer or something, and he turned her down flat, the ungrateful Scottish knob.

She did a jolly good job as health secretary, for very little thanks, and that was after a stint at trade and industry, where she did a stout job of safeguarding the British car industry, and before that she had a pivotal role in masterminding Neil Kinnock’s fantastic 1992 election campaign.

And yet there are people - it makes me angry to even think about this - that reckon she’s a talentless bint whose entire career has been one prolonged car crash of fuck-ups and incompetence. Even Johnson the dweeb urologist can’t see what a jewel she has been in the crown of our nation’ s governance.

He turned up in my office the other day and tried to allege that she was the worst health secretary who’d ever drawn breath, but I managed to persuade him, with cogent argument and by shutting his hand in the drawer a few times, that she was probably the best…apart from seven or eight others.

But now she’ll show them! Now she’ll rescue the whole country!! She’ll be kingmaker!!! Perhaps in gratitude the Labour Party will see sense and vote her in as leader, then I can gaze at her gorgeous yellowing skin and slightly weird hair at PMQ’s as she talks patronisingly to the leader of the opposition.

You just wait! Maybe she’ll remember me and I’ll become her ’special’ advisor again. Oh baby. She’s unleashed a groundswell, an unstoppable force, a tsunami! It’ll be her finest hour! She’ll….

Oh Wait. It’s failed. Arse!

Tags: Humour