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Ministerial appointments and the Aussie cricket team

A weekly column reproduced from the Bristol Evening Post

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So, there we go. Another five years of lies, false promises and sleaze. I sometimes think that you people shouldn’t be trusted with something as important as a vote.

Mr Blah responded to his overwhelming victory in typical fashion, jacking his wages up to £140,000 a year plus massive benefits, and promptly appointing a blind Home Secretary and several women to the Cabinet. That’ll keep the Guardian-reading, lentil-eaters quiet.

The women, I can just about put up with. Someone has to make the tea and sandwiches at meetings after all. I’m not sure what Margaret Beckett has to contribute as Countryside Minister though. She and her loopy hubby are keen caravanners, so her only recent experience of the rural scene will have been cruising round country lanes at a majestic 15mph before spending the weekend in a damp field eating Swiss rolls and inhaling the fumes from the chemical toilet.

Now I’ve no objection in principle to appointing disabled people to important jobs (Good God, we even had three poofs as Ministers last time around), but I’m not entirely comfortable with a Home Secretary whose only knowledge is what other people tell him.

For all his slipperiness when it comes to dodging speeding tickets, Jack Straw did a reasonable job. He was fairly open-minded, assessed the issues for himself, and took appropriate action.

David Blunkett, undoubtedly a decent and honest man, will have to rely far more on advice from civil servants and the police. Unless he can find a talking guide dog, that is.

Over to you, Blue Peter. Let’s start collecting those milk bottle tops now.

Seeing as they’re supposed to have a special relationship, Mr Blah did the Liberal Democrats no favours in delaying the election until June.

Yes, they may have gained a few seats, but just think what they could have done if their leader, Cheeky Charlie Kennedy, had been able to canvass properly. Why? Well the weather was much worse back in May, when the election should have been held. By June, the sun had come out.

This meant that Charlie, being a Grade A Ginger, had to conduct a vampire-like campaign, avoiding daylight at all costs and only venturing from his helicopter, coated in Factor 165, once the sun had gone down.

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