Crewe's blue. And so is Gordon Brown I would imagine.
Last night was possibly one of the worst in the Labour party's history. The once sexy Labour stronghold has been taken in a most violent fashion and now lies in the capable Tory arms of Mr Timpson, see above, whilst Miss Dunwoody lies on her back exhausted.
What a monumental balls-up..
Poor old Gordo, waits umpteen years to get the top job, then messes up big time. After all his errors I didn't think his political life could get any worse.
How wrong I was.
Labour have had their sublime day on the sunlounger with Mr Blair now they're huddling under a well worn blanket on a chilly beach with a miserable old mate. And this mate is going to ruin what's left of their sojourn into the balmy hot world of big time politics. They have to desert him and quick, and then head for the car otherwise they're all going to get cold.
The reverberating clang of Brown's death knell must be ding-donging in his ears as he works out what to do and say next. And I'd bet my best handbag that Labour M.Ps are busily checking and revising their cv's just incase they're out of a job in a couple of years. Or sooner.
The Conservatives however must be licking the lips and getting wet mouthed at the thought of Gordo lying immobilised, outstretched and stunned on the bloodied pavement outside Number Ten. Whilst David Cameron's wife will be wondering how big the kitchen and bedrooms are.
So unless Mr Brown can turn the party's fortunes around he and his cohorts will again be polishing the opposition back benches. Their bums did a good job for eighteen years, now it looks as if the Mrs Mopps of the political world will be doing it all over again.
But I wonder who their supervisor will be?
I also wonder what Cherie Blair is doing?
A jig I shouldn't wonder.
Thanks to Terry for commenting on Monday's post. Methinks a grand man in entering stage right.
