Saturday 17 October 2009

Imagine! Ponty infiltrating the poor House of Commons!




Breaking news! I am still a little bewildered actually – I had to check with Henry to make sure they weren’t pulling my leg: Ponty, yes Ponty, is apparently to be an MP.

I adore Ponty. I suppose one always has a soft spot for one’s youngest child. But even seen in the rosy glow of maternal affection, Ponty does not appear adequately serious-minded to govern the country. In the privacy of these pages I confess to wondering if the electorate of Loose Chippings has lost its mind.

I can only assume that, since our ward has always been staunchly Conservative, and Ponty was the only local Tory prepared to stand, loyalty proved victorious over sober judgement.

Perhaps I am being a little harsh. Maybe in due course he will grow into the rôle, and prove himself worthy of the responsibilities that will rest upon his remarkably juvenile shoulders. And then again…. At this time of all times surely we are striving to present a credible and convincing front to the nation? A nanny state is a tiresome infliction whichever way you look at it, and the contemplation of Gordon Brown as one’s nanny is enough to precipitate nightmares – even so a believable opposition must surely be a necessity. Just now, when George Osborn is drawing his mouth into a little thin line, gazing white-faced but unflinching at our economic future, is Ponty really going to offer the teamwork he had in mind?

Ponty is an economic crisis by himself. Unless he took the whole of Jesus College on a world cruise, I cannot imagine how even with determination he managed to devastate his father’s resources to the extent he did. He seems to labour (though this is not a word I would often use in reference to Ponty) under the illusion that speed cameras have been set up to create an admiring record of just what Vorsprung durch Teknik can do in a Sussex lane. And sleaze – ha! One surely respects one’s children’s privacy, and naturally they are free to exercise the right to choose their friends: but I was very, very cross when he brought that awful young woman Debris Bonbon (who styles herself a ‘sweetie rapper’ of all things – such nonsense!) to the church garden party.

Ponty! An MP! Can you imagine!? I shall vote for him, of course.

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