Sunday, June 23, 2013

Lord Bonkers' Diary: Clear off, M. Farage

As so often, the old boy has proved prophetic.

Saturday

In my long experience, new parties grow like mushrooms but rarely survive long past breakfast. At one time, Lord Sutch and his party were all the rage: so much so that little Steel insisted we stand down in Sutch’s favour in half the constituencies across the country. It did not come to anything and I never thought it would.

Today the talk is of someone called Farage. Farage? Rather a fancified, Frenchified name, don’t you think? Evan a little poncey, as dear Violent would have put it. I find it easy to imagine the man having his lunch: whereas you or I would choose a pork pie or gamey stilton, Farage would favour the leg of a frog or perhaps some snails. No doubt he wears a beret too and cycles the lanes of England selling onions. He may think this a clever way of meeting voters, but I cannot see him prospering.

Clear off, M. Farage: We don’t want your sort in Rutland! (In all fairness, I must add that, when I mentioned this to Meadowcroft, his eyes lit up at the prospect of someone clearing his vegetable garden of snails.)

Lord Bonkers was Liberal MP for Rutland South-West 1906-10.

Previously in Lord Bonkers' Diary
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