The local elections are hotting up, and its time for Beestonia to mobilise.
Its not as downright sexy as the General Election: while that contest was a steamy red-hot moist gusseted sex-fest, the locals tend to pale, akin to Bella Emburg (google it, kids) staggering to the medicine cabinet to find some talc for her gusset-rash.
WRONG! The locals are a fascinating chance for YOU, yes YOU -this blog lets me see through your laptop to whatever you’re doing, and frankly, I’d put that root veg down RIGHT NOW, – to muck about with politics directly. And its ripe pickings for Lord Beestonia. Weirdly, no -one has bothered to run a non-partisan, glib, snipey blog on politics in Beestonia before. Last year my only competition died off when he was revealed to be a Labour Party member, and I was left alone to kick off the guff expelled from party arses during the campaign.
I’m not complaining: I got record hits, and am proud to be facilitating a forum of local debate, if that doesn’t make me sound like a massive Nathan Barleyesque wankatron.
I will be publishing the proper candidate lists when they become official in early April (thank you to the labs, libs and greens who have been responsive, boo sucks to the tories who didn’t even reply). But as Beestonians, get ready. This promises to be a hotly contested battle. No-one holds absolute majority, so will the Lib/Lab coalition split? Will the tories romance the Libs into a sexy union? Will Lib defectors make a difference? No other bugger will tell you, or go the depths to provide the insight required, so don’t go changing, y’all.
I have such a back log of stuff to knock out here, and so little time (being a doley is so terribly taxing, I spend an average 18 hours a day ticking forms), Im looking for a Beestonian (young or old) to do some bits and bobs for a month or so. I can’t pay you, unless I have a sudden windfall but I’m banned from scratchcards ’till my fingernail/silver foil ration reaches normal levels again. If you’re wanting to pursue a career in journalism; if wanting to do something for society, run NOW, but if you want to live the Goold Life for a while and get some writing published, send me an email with details. If your mum is nice, a jpeg please. __________________________________________
I met one of my favourite local politicos for a pint last week. David Mitchell, aka ‘no, not that one’; and a lovely bloke he proved to be. The Green candidate for Broxtowe at the General Election, he appeared at hustings as a real amateur initially, but stole the show at the final Bramcote Hustings (see Beestonia passim). He is a leader in the wings, but not with the Greens, and his converstional indiscretions really should have been noted down, yet I didn’t take a notebook on the grounds, explained at the end of our chat, as ‘this is all off the record, yeah?’. His response, ‘tell it all, im not that type of politician’ made me bang my head against the wall as so much good stuff was disclosed: yet despite my self imposed amnesia, I can say with intent: the local Green Party are a bunch of Srooge-like crunts.
David, if you’re reading this, ok to run the full story? If not, you’re a pint in debt…
Oh the irony. Heres me banging on about the importance of electoral participation, and I find out last night Im not on the electoral roll. Why? I fell through some crack. I’m sure you’re better organised than me, but check yourselves. This is going to be a crazy vote/referendum, don’t disenfranchise yourself.