The Arses That Saved Britain?

You know, there are times when I feel deeply disappointed by the British people.  I mean, as Boris Johnson barricaded himself into Number Ten yesterday, holding the 1922 Committee and rebel cabinet members at bay with a shotgun, killing the odd Michael Gove to show that he serious in his intent to cling to power, I kept fervently asking myself - where is the angry mob breaking into Downing Street, dragging him out and stringing him up from the nearest lamppost?  What has this country come to when we can't even muster a decent violent mob?  Have we become that cowed by theses Tories and their fascist regime?  You'd think that after all the shit that's gone down under Johnson - the lies, the incompetence, the corruption - that people would be queuing up to get a chance at dispensing some revolutionary street justice to the fat fornicating bastard.  But no.  Instead, until this morning, I feared that we might be heading for the scenario where an enraged Johnson breaks out of Number Ten and wreaks havoc on the streets - overturning police cars and smashing everything in his path - before scaling  Big Ben, a swooning Nadine Dorries clutched in one hairy paw, where he'd try to beat off a swarm of biplanes, doubtless piloted by Rishi Sunak, Sajid Javid and Nadhim Zawahi.  Actually, he'd probably just have beaten off, in some desperate attempt to spread his toxic semen over Westminster in hope of impregnating enough women that, in time, an army of his monstrous idiot offspring could take the country back in his name.  

Thankfully, however, the fat bastard decided to resign.  Well, sort of.  He's stepped down as Tory leader, but wants to linger for as long as he can as Prime Minister, supposedly until a new Tory leader is elected.  Which leaves us all in a very dangerous place because you can just guarantee that, despite Johnson's protestations that he will only be a 'caretaker' and won't actually initiate or enact any major legislation, he'll be busy plotting as to how he cam somehow hang on to his job.  I mean, when has he ever been known to keep a promise, let alone tell the truth?  But let's take a few steps back and remember just what brought about Johnson's downfall - it wasn't 'Partygate', it wasn't all that Russian money he took, it wasn't the fact that his incompetence caused hundreds of thousands of deaths during the pandemic, nor the fact that billions of pounds worth of public money were creamed off by Tory-linked fraudsters during Covid.  No, it was the fact that one of his cronies got drunk and couldn't keep his hands to himself, groping the behinds of two unconsenting young men.  Yep, that was it, after all the other shit, it was the fact that Johnson had, in effect, been protecting a sex pest that provided the catalyst for the Tories to finally turn against fat boy.  So, in effect, those groped arses saved Britain.  So significant has their contribution been to freedom and democracy, that I think that casts should be taken of them, from which bronze sculptures can be made and displayed for posterity.  Move that old racist Churchill on from Parliament Square in favour of one and install the other one permanently on the fourth plinth in Trafalgar Square!  Yes indeed, in years to come, kids will gave upon them in awe and ask their parents and grandparents: 'Where were you when the arses were grabbed?'