The Aardvark Blog

For too long aardvarks have been teased or ignored in the online community. This blog encourages disabled bisexual atheist feminist Socialists to stand shoulder to shoulder with aardvarks in their struggle. And to find out what their struggle actually is.

Sunday, May 08, 2005

Hello? Hello??

I've been coasting around the Tory websites and apart from conservatives.com (how interesting that they should be a .com while even Newlabour is an org.uk) can't find a single one updated since Thursday. Queer. A nice one to visit is http://www.gavinbrown.org , the charming website of Gavin Brown, unsuccessful Tory candidate for Edinburgh South (the Liberals actually came second. Boundary changes schmoundary changes) for all your motivational speaker needs. He will no doubt be able to cater for these very effectively, since he has so much time on his hands now, having lost the election, hence the words unsuccessful Tory candidate which I wish to repeat as often as possible. Why not leave a message casting doubt on his mother's marital status while you're there? I wish him every success in his small business career, which will probably be more successful in any case than that of my parents, who ran a petshop (catering to real needs, ie the need of pets to have food, litter, etc, rather than intangible needs, such as that of executives to have people tell them to chin up a bit) until the second Thatcher recession, when they went bust. (I know what you're going to say; but it's rather odd that an entire road's-worth of shops should become incompetent at the same time in the middle of a recession. And they've got a very successful farm under this (Labour) government.)
A rather more tragic case than that of Mr Brown (let us not forget, the unsuccessful Tory candidate for Edinburgh South) is documented here:
http://www.conservatives.com/tile.do?def=sandra.howard.page .
Look at her. In't she gorgeous? Lovely woman. Baffles me how she could end up with him.
Then read it. It's appalling. It's fucking appalling. Think of the mirror-image of me during the past month or so, distort it horribly, add three gallons of bile, a metre-large smirk, and several metric tonnes of chintz, and you're still nowhere fucking close. There are three possibilities here:
1. She didn't write it herself.
2. Her brain's been hacked.
3. He's the one who's drawn the short straw.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be that unkind. (Well I did, but you know what I mean.) But she's used the EU exclamation-mark quota for the whole UK; and halfway down the page she starts looking like Christine Hamilton.

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