JD450A
Feral as Fk 🐾
£100,000 a year for each of them for life I believe.
Storrsy
Well-known member
Is that right!? Mental. I never knew that. Why are they entitled to that- go and get a job and wait for their pension like all the rest of us!
Storrsy
Well-known member
Ah so they can claim upto 115k a year for life to cover the cost of "life after leaving office- staffing, public engagement etc costs etc.
JD450A
Feral as Fk 🐾
Lancs Lad
Well-known member
You spelt his name wrong...
Lancs Lad
Well-known member
another cracker:
Keir Starmer’s office triumphantly briefed that more than 100 MPs had signed a letter begging him to stay on as Prime Minister.
A spontaneous outpouring of loyalty apparently. Britain was supposed to picture Labour MPs queuing down Whitehall in tears, clutching biros and whispering “please don’t leave us Keir”.
Tiny problem. The letter turned out to be about as authentic as a three-pound Rolex from a Marbella beach stall.
Several MPs listed reportedly hadn’t even agreed to sign it. Others were allegedly “supportive” in the same sense hostages are supportive during negotiations.
Westminster now resembles a sixth-form student council election where somebody’s forged signatures on the nomination sheet and hoped nobody would notice.
Which is rather fitting for Starmerism in general. The entire project increasingly feels like it was assembled by corporate HR managers in a panic after the actual politicians failed a background check.
Every week it’s another sermon about “protecting democracy” from a government that seems to regard free speech as something that should only exist when approved by a compliance department and moderated by Ofcom.
This is the same Prime Minister who talks endlessly about openness and tolerance while presiding over visa bans and speaker exclusions for people whose opinions offend the fashionable graduate seminar consensus in Westminster.
Britain used to export debate. Under Starmer, it increasingly resembles an airport security queue run by social media moderators. And that’s the real issue beneath the comedy.
The public can tolerate unpopular leaders. Britain has survived plenty of those. What people cannot stand is the creeping sense that everything is manufactured.
The endorsements. The slogans. The staged “resets”. The carefully focus-grouped sincerity. Even the support letters now apparently arrive with the structural integrity of a counterfeit nightclub ID.
Starmer doesn’t look like a strong leader defending democracy. He looks like the regional manager of a collapsing utilities company desperately circulating a staff petition insisting morale has never been higher while half the office is updating LinkedIn profiles under the desk.
Keir Starmer’s office triumphantly briefed that more than 100 MPs had signed a letter begging him to stay on as Prime Minister.
A spontaneous outpouring of loyalty apparently. Britain was supposed to picture Labour MPs queuing down Whitehall in tears, clutching biros and whispering “please don’t leave us Keir”.
Tiny problem. The letter turned out to be about as authentic as a three-pound Rolex from a Marbella beach stall.
Several MPs listed reportedly hadn’t even agreed to sign it. Others were allegedly “supportive” in the same sense hostages are supportive during negotiations.
Westminster now resembles a sixth-form student council election where somebody’s forged signatures on the nomination sheet and hoped nobody would notice.
Which is rather fitting for Starmerism in general. The entire project increasingly feels like it was assembled by corporate HR managers in a panic after the actual politicians failed a background check.
Every week it’s another sermon about “protecting democracy” from a government that seems to regard free speech as something that should only exist when approved by a compliance department and moderated by Ofcom.
This is the same Prime Minister who talks endlessly about openness and tolerance while presiding over visa bans and speaker exclusions for people whose opinions offend the fashionable graduate seminar consensus in Westminster.
Britain used to export debate. Under Starmer, it increasingly resembles an airport security queue run by social media moderators. And that’s the real issue beneath the comedy.
The public can tolerate unpopular leaders. Britain has survived plenty of those. What people cannot stand is the creeping sense that everything is manufactured.
The endorsements. The slogans. The staged “resets”. The carefully focus-grouped sincerity. Even the support letters now apparently arrive with the structural integrity of a counterfeit nightclub ID.
Starmer doesn’t look like a strong leader defending democracy. He looks like the regional manager of a collapsing utilities company desperately circulating a staff petition insisting morale has never been higher while half the office is updating LinkedIn profiles under the desk.
CPS
Well-known member
Lancs Lad
Well-known member
Grim reaper is deffo looming now. streetings dumped them now.
Oh and todays masterpiece:
Rachel Reeves now resembles the financial equivalent of a woman attempting to pilot a burning caravan through a flooded quarry while insisting everything is “fully costed.”
Britain’s business community meanwhile sits tied to the roof rack wondering whether the next tax rise will arrive before or after the axle falls off.
Government borrowing costs are now at levels not seen since the late 1990s. The pound is sliding around like a drunk wedding guest. Asset managers are openly warning investors to avoid British debt.
Morgan Stanley has effectively looked at the UK economy and diagnosed it with “persistent vegetative state.” Yet Reeves still delivers speeches with the rigid confidence of somebody trying to assemble IKEA furniture upside down while refusing to read the instructions.
The truly impressive part is how Labour has managed to recreate the atmosphere of 1976 without the inconvenience of disco music or visible industrial capacity.
Back then James Callaghan went crawling to the IMF because Britain had run out of road, money and credibility simultaneously. In 2026 Labour has modernised the process.
We now bankrupt the country digitally while MPs post diversity graphics on LinkedIn and insist declining living standards are “the transition.”
The business community has become an endangered species under Reeves. Shopkeepers, contractors, consultants, manufacturers and self-employed professionals are treated less like wealth creators and more like criminal suspects who somehow escaped sentencing.
Every morning another business owner wakes up to discover:
higher corporation tax,
higher employment costs,
higher borrowing costs,
higher compliance costs,
higher energy costs,
and lower confidence.
At this point the average SME owner checks HMRC correspondence the way medieval villagers checked the horizon for Viking ships.
And what is Reeves’s answer to a flatlining economy? More taxation, naturally. Because nothing stimulates investment quite like threatening the remaining productive people with financial euthanasia.
Meanwhile Labour MPs are openly sharpening knives over Starmer’s leadership while bond markets watch in horror like nervous wedding guests spotting the groom’s ex climbing through a church window.
If Starmer survives, markets see weakness and spending concessions to the Labour left.
If Rayner arrives, investors start hiding under desks. If Burnham arrives, gilt traders may simply burst into tears on live television.
There is no reassuring option. The entire front bench now resembles the management team of a collapsing regional theatre company trying to perform Les Misérables during a gas leak.
Britain is drifting carelessly into national insolvency managed by people whose only growth sector appears to be public sector consultancy and sensitivity training.
Callaghan’s ghost must be looking down at Westminster thinking:
“Bloody hell… even we weren't that dishonest.
Oh and todays masterpiece:
Rachel Reeves now resembles the financial equivalent of a woman attempting to pilot a burning caravan through a flooded quarry while insisting everything is “fully costed.”
Britain’s business community meanwhile sits tied to the roof rack wondering whether the next tax rise will arrive before or after the axle falls off.
Government borrowing costs are now at levels not seen since the late 1990s. The pound is sliding around like a drunk wedding guest. Asset managers are openly warning investors to avoid British debt.
Morgan Stanley has effectively looked at the UK economy and diagnosed it with “persistent vegetative state.” Yet Reeves still delivers speeches with the rigid confidence of somebody trying to assemble IKEA furniture upside down while refusing to read the instructions.
The truly impressive part is how Labour has managed to recreate the atmosphere of 1976 without the inconvenience of disco music or visible industrial capacity.
Back then James Callaghan went crawling to the IMF because Britain had run out of road, money and credibility simultaneously. In 2026 Labour has modernised the process.
We now bankrupt the country digitally while MPs post diversity graphics on LinkedIn and insist declining living standards are “the transition.”
The business community has become an endangered species under Reeves. Shopkeepers, contractors, consultants, manufacturers and self-employed professionals are treated less like wealth creators and more like criminal suspects who somehow escaped sentencing.
Every morning another business owner wakes up to discover:
higher corporation tax,
higher employment costs,
higher borrowing costs,
higher compliance costs,
higher energy costs,
and lower confidence.
At this point the average SME owner checks HMRC correspondence the way medieval villagers checked the horizon for Viking ships.
And what is Reeves’s answer to a flatlining economy? More taxation, naturally. Because nothing stimulates investment quite like threatening the remaining productive people with financial euthanasia.
Meanwhile Labour MPs are openly sharpening knives over Starmer’s leadership while bond markets watch in horror like nervous wedding guests spotting the groom’s ex climbing through a church window.
If Starmer survives, markets see weakness and spending concessions to the Labour left.
If Rayner arrives, investors start hiding under desks. If Burnham arrives, gilt traders may simply burst into tears on live television.
There is no reassuring option. The entire front bench now resembles the management team of a collapsing regional theatre company trying to perform Les Misérables during a gas leak.
Britain is drifting carelessly into national insolvency managed by people whose only growth sector appears to be public sector consultancy and sensitivity training.
Callaghan’s ghost must be looking down at Westminster thinking:
“Bloody hell… even we weren't that dishonest.
Furniss
Well-known member
the french aren't laughing
Lancs Lad
Well-known member
Mr and Mr ?
M
Monkeybusiness
Well-known member
What’s the thoughts of the press over there on the general uk leadership?
Furniss
Well-known member
dont know tbh, we dont keep an eye on things, either French or U.K , just ignorantly bob about in our bubble
craig
Well-known member
Its probably the best bet .dont know tbh, we dont keep an eye on things, either French or U.K , just ignorantly bob about in our bubble
Furniss
Well-known member
thats where we're at with things - cant do sfa about most of it.
Lancs Lad
Well-known member
another cracking summary:
Labour apparently now believes Andy Burnham is the emergency solution to Keir Starmer.
Which is a bit like British Rail announcing the answer to years of delays is repainting the same broken train and putting a different man in the buffet carriage.
The truly hilarious part is that Labour has over 400 MPs, a gigantic parliamentary majority, control of government, the civil service, the Treasury, half the BBC emotionally on standby and so many special advisers.
…yet somehow the great hope arrives wearing a Greater Manchester mayoral lanyard like a substitute PE teacher drafted in during a staff shortage.
“If Andy Burnham is the answer, what is the question?” “How do we make Labour look slightly less like a malfunctioning civil service HR department?”
Burnham’s supporters describe him as authentic, grounded and connected to ordinary people which in modern Labour circles is apparently revolutionary because most of Westminster now communicates like a diversity consultant explaining recycling procedures at a local council away day.
But here’s the problem. Burnham is not some outsider riding in from the wilderness to save Britain from decline. He is a career Labour insider who has spent more time inside the political machine than a loose bolt in a washing machine.
The man has held so many Westminster jobs he practically qualifies as listed office furniture.
And now Labour wants him to solve a crisis largely created by Labour politicians talking to each other for twenty years inside conference halls fuelled by quinoa wraps and applause from people called Ash.
The funniest part of all is Labour’s impossible balancing act.
They need Burnham to sound patriotic enough for northern working class voters, delusional enough for London activists, managerial enough for the Treasury, radical enough for students, safe enough for pension funds and vague enough not to offend anyone at the Guardian.
So essentially Labour is trying to market one man simultaneously as Arthur Scargill, Gareth Southgate and a regional manager from John Lewis.
Meanwhile Reform is eating chunks out of Labour’s old base, the Greens are vacuuming up urban activists, Wales has started politically ghosting them and Scotland still looks at Westminster Labour like an ex-partner who keeps texting “u up?”
At this stage Labour resembles one of those shopping centre claw machines. Lots of movement. Flashing lights. Loud music. Nothing actually gets lifted out.
And Burnham now risks becoming Labour’s latest sacrificial “fresh start” candidate despite already being around so long he probably remembers when ministerial cars still had cassette players.
The brutal truth? It is that the public increasingly suspects the entire political class has become a giant professional networking event disconnected from ordinary life, ordinary work and ordinary pressures.
Replacing Starmer with Burnham may improve the delivery. But it does not change the script.
Labour apparently now believes Andy Burnham is the emergency solution to Keir Starmer.
Which is a bit like British Rail announcing the answer to years of delays is repainting the same broken train and putting a different man in the buffet carriage.
The truly hilarious part is that Labour has over 400 MPs, a gigantic parliamentary majority, control of government, the civil service, the Treasury, half the BBC emotionally on standby and so many special advisers.
…yet somehow the great hope arrives wearing a Greater Manchester mayoral lanyard like a substitute PE teacher drafted in during a staff shortage.
“If Andy Burnham is the answer, what is the question?” “How do we make Labour look slightly less like a malfunctioning civil service HR department?”
Burnham’s supporters describe him as authentic, grounded and connected to ordinary people which in modern Labour circles is apparently revolutionary because most of Westminster now communicates like a diversity consultant explaining recycling procedures at a local council away day.
But here’s the problem. Burnham is not some outsider riding in from the wilderness to save Britain from decline. He is a career Labour insider who has spent more time inside the political machine than a loose bolt in a washing machine.
The man has held so many Westminster jobs he practically qualifies as listed office furniture.
And now Labour wants him to solve a crisis largely created by Labour politicians talking to each other for twenty years inside conference halls fuelled by quinoa wraps and applause from people called Ash.
The funniest part of all is Labour’s impossible balancing act.
They need Burnham to sound patriotic enough for northern working class voters, delusional enough for London activists, managerial enough for the Treasury, radical enough for students, safe enough for pension funds and vague enough not to offend anyone at the Guardian.
So essentially Labour is trying to market one man simultaneously as Arthur Scargill, Gareth Southgate and a regional manager from John Lewis.
Meanwhile Reform is eating chunks out of Labour’s old base, the Greens are vacuuming up urban activists, Wales has started politically ghosting them and Scotland still looks at Westminster Labour like an ex-partner who keeps texting “u up?”
At this stage Labour resembles one of those shopping centre claw machines. Lots of movement. Flashing lights. Loud music. Nothing actually gets lifted out.
And Burnham now risks becoming Labour’s latest sacrificial “fresh start” candidate despite already being around so long he probably remembers when ministerial cars still had cassette players.
The brutal truth? It is that the public increasingly suspects the entire political class has become a giant professional networking event disconnected from ordinary life, ordinary work and ordinary pressures.
Replacing Starmer with Burnham may improve the delivery. But it does not change the script.
B
bobthebuilder
Well-known member
Like shitting into your hands ,and clapping
Lancs Lad
Well-known member
It shouldn't be allowed imo.
Bunhams an elected major...finish your term..
Can't suddenly decide to run for PM halfway through...and cost the taxpayer 4.5m in the process. Utter joke. Imagine. If that was a Tory...be an absolute outcry.
Really hoping reform absolute trounce him...then he's stuffed
doobin
Well-known member
I’m hoping Restore win. Reform are not the answer, too tainted.It shouldn't be allowed imo.
Bunhams an elected major...finish your term..
Can't suddenly decide to run for PM halfway through...and cost the taxpayer 4.5m in the process. Utter joke. Imagine. If that was a Tory...be an absolute outcry.
Really hoping reform absolute trounce him...then he's stuffed
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