When the clown becomes the ringmaster, the circus turns ugly

You may well have to forgive the title of this post, however I’m rather pleased with it. We appear to be living in one of those periods in history when the circus parliament has begun to consume itself; the political party in power begins to expel its own members who disagree with it (presumably university student rules that if you’re going to complain about the party, then you can leave), a small few dig in an the mud slinging results in trench warfare (of sorts).

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The sad (and yet highly amusing) reality of 2019 Britain is that the Conservative Party has effectively become a vassal state for billionaires who stand to lose a lot of money, yet it’s ordinary folk who have enough to pay their’ mortgage and go on their’ summer holiday to Malaga/Tenerife/sunny destination of choice who will lose out the most. And yet, it’s many of these people who actually voted for Brexit. I struggle to get my head around it, yet I suppose it’s a bit like Marmite – I can’t fathom how some people enjoy the wretched stuff so much, yet they do.

In between feeling incredibly angry about the whole situation, I try my best to simply bide my time and not get too upset about it all.

Doesn’t often work, mind.

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