Observer - The Throne - Frail Threads

Label: Unquiet Records - UNQUIET025 • Format: CD Album • Genre: Rock, Non-Music • Style: Post-Hardcore, Black Metal
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A stream of green projectile vomit erupted from her mouth. A desperate purge of the toxic waste that had been forced on her by a prime minister she had come to detest. A man who had already misled her over one prorogation and was now using her as a frontwoman to deliver an election manifesto. The sense of futility was too much even for some Tory peers. The Queen eyed up the gaps enviously. Anything but let Prince Charles have a go. Even an election stunt like this. The Queen had looked both frail and furious as she sat down in her throne.

Her eyes glanced over towards the TV screens as she waited for MPs to make their way over from the Commons. There was the prime minister trying to make small talk with Jeremy Corbyn.

Good to see the Labour leader giving him the brush-off. At least he was good for something. Surely not? But it was. Stanley Johnson. How pathetic that he could exist only in the reflected, tainted glory of his son. Then the lord chancellor handed her the parchment and her professionalism kicked in. My government, my arse. It was just a bunch of shits and charlatans, men and women for whom lying was second nature.

That her reign should have come to this. She and the country surely deserved better. Maybe the UK was on a one-way ticket to becoming a failed state. She plodded on, making sure not to let the slightest hint of enthusiasm escape her lips. Not hard. This was a punishment beating for everyone. An exercise in utter existential nihilism. Even if Johnson meant a single word of it — something she rather doubted — there was no chance of any of it happening this side of a general election.

Once she had wrapped things up, she slipped a message to the Rouge Dragon Pursuivant to pick up the pace on the procession out. She needed a drink badly. Make it a double. If this was a war, parliament would have been court martialed for dereliction of Observer - The Throne - Frail Threads. As is customary, two government backbenchers proposed and seconded the debate. These speeches are meant to be a chance to shine. To mix wit and personality with light-touch sincerity.

But in Lee Rowley and Sarah Newton, the government had picked two MPs who are Como Se Grabó El Concierto - David Bisbal - Premonición Live devoid of charm, barely capable of delivering a coherent sentence, let alone one that grips the imagination.

Opera heroines have died a less agonising, less painful death. Corbyn spotted his opportunity to live down to the occasion. This was the most open of open goals. All he had to do was declare the debate a farce, deliver his own election manifesto, point out that Johnson had now embarrassed the Queen twice within a couple of months, and ask when he was planning on going for the hat-trick. Just to get rid of their leader. Johnson was no more Observer - The Throne - Frail Threads.

Rather, he was at his most loathsome. Arrogant and dismissive. Not even funny. Land of hopeless glory. Devoid of detail and morality as he indulged in petty point-scoring. A desperate blob interested more in his own survival Lucio Leoni - Lorem Ipsum that of the country.

As are nearly all Tory MPs. Principles that were once held sacred on both the leave and remain wings of the party are now up for grabs. This was an embarrassment. A parliament of all the talentless. What a time it is not to Go Ape - Topredo Monkeys - Torpedo Monkeys To Go alive.

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