I have entirely lost my sense of humour over the past week, though Toby did manage to make me laugh today by evoking, accidentally, the visual image of a nun entirely covered in choux buns. I don't have anything of value to add to the whole sorry business, so instead here is my suggested new cabinet and shadow cabinet, based on Saturday night's Owl Evening. They would sort this shit out. I mean, sure, their head cavities are about 78% eye and their brains are consequently tiny, but they would still be better than the alternative. I mean, it isn't called a parliament of owls for nothing, is it? #votestrigiformes
Just furious right now. Don't try and talk to her. Not going to take any more of our shit.
"Just hand me that chickmeat and fuck off out of my sight," says Flint.
The Scops triplets (can you see the one hiding in the hole? He can't even):
Have no time for this and have had it up here with us all. Want us to go away and think about what we've done.
Hopes we understand it's our own time we're wasting
"You must be so proud," says Thumper. "Well done, no, really."
"Fuckery," says Nick. "Utter fuckery"
Is not angry, she's just disappointed.
Is over it. "Are we done here?" says Desmond.
Going to Bastardpost now, while it's still standing. Actually, Bastardpost will probably survive the coming end times. Bastardpost and cockroaches.