Dahlings, you will probably soon gather that I have a lot to get out of my jewellery box of complaints. My heaving bosom is full of angst.
Let's start with the Conservatives in Cornwall. The Manifesto-less party (both locally and nationally) who are, quite frankly my dears, a total embarrassment to my Blue Blooded lineage. Liberal Democrats may have run the council like it was one of their Christmas book sales, but at least you could see they were striving for something.
Recently, I am led to believe, that Alec Robertson (Leader of the council) made a statement that he had never heard anyone ask for a manifesto. I suppose he probably quite literally hasn't heard those words, but if he had ever spent any time on the door steps of Cornwall (and not just the ones, like my own, up a leafy two mile drive) he would have heard people asking for real things. Real things that make a manifesto. Real things like car parking, dog shit and rubbish collections.
During the election they said that they couldn't come up with a manifesto because they "hadn't seen the real state of the finances" now they are having to lie about the finances and claim that nobody wants a manifesto.
Good Lord. Papa would be turning in his grave and Grand-mama would be shooting the donkeys in case anyone were thinking of sticking a blue rosette on any more of them and putting them up for election.
For now dahlings, Mwah.
TTFN
Ffiona x
Monday, 2 November 2009
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