Today’s the day, voting is over. A new, younger and distinctly less jowly phoenix shall rise from the ashes of our last shit-pile government, to lead Labour’s fight back against Clegg and Cameron’s “Coalition of the Peeled Sausage People.”
So, let’s have a look at who is in with a shout at the job, a lot has already been said about their political leanings, associations, education and such. So for that reason – and because I know precisely bollock all about that side of things – it will mainly be a list of what their faces look like. Which is important, obviously.
First up, the outsider, probably not going to win, possibly because of his Blairite tendencies, but more likely due to the fact he looks like someone tried to sculpt a younger, sexier Michael Gove out of a bag of mashed dog cocks.
Burnham’s face is remarkable, he can go from looking reasonably normal to resembling a creepy Victorian sex doll that’s been dragged from a fire within the same sentence, here are a few other hastily thought out, badly worded ‘observations’:
– When he smiles, he looks a bit like a ‘Where are they now?’ photo-fit of Lord Snooty.
– His hair looks like it was chosen by a focus group.
– Burnham’s eyes make him look like an ageing, and particularly effete Cure fan, who has had to stop dressing like a distressed crow, quit his band and “Get a proper job”
So, we potentially could have a Labour Leader named Balls… Tee Hee Hee! Balls, there. Done, it is funny, and I like the idea that all the political parties have to elect people with surnames that describe what their face looks like, Cameron would have to change his name to David Upside-Down-Flayed-Fucking-Penguin-With-A-Childs-Drawing-Of-A-Face-On-It. Which wouldn’t fit so well on a ballot paper.
Ed is a genuine contender, despite looking like Gordon Brown getting sucked off in a wind tunnel.
He’s seen as the tough talking, footy loving, sleeves rolled up candidate who will POWER-FUCK the opposition with his thick, veiny policy shaft and leave them a weepy husk in the morning.
He puts the MAN into manifesto, etc. etc. But what of his face?
– He looks perpetually confused, as though his farts end with a question mark.
– His head is the same size as an entire boiled ham, as such he struggles to make his hair look like it belongs on a human being. It sort of looks like it’s been badly photoshopped on as an after thought, by an ADHD afflicted Sixth Form student.
– When he smiles, it’s as if he is wistfully reminiscing about the time he did a moony off the back of the school coach.
The second Ed, and first of the two Miliband brothers in the race and according to the bookies, the hot favourite to win.
Fuck knows why, he’s blander than water soup and frankly just the idea of researching why he’s so popular makes my whole body yawn. So, lets just concentrate on his frankly astonishing fizzog shall we?
– He looks like a varnished jacket potato.
– His neck appears to join his face at the nose, with his chin effectively being an Adam’s apple.
– His head looks so squishy and malleable, it reminds me of those faces made from tights filled with sand you grew water-cress out of in Junior School.
– I imagine he spent most of his childhood happily pushing tonka toys up his rectum and gurgling proudly about it to his mum.
– He would be ideal for a live action Earthworm Jim film, wherein Jim has let himself go a bit, given up on life and got a job in the accounts department of a local granite worksurface company.
The second Milibland brother, and possibly the most normal looking out of all the contenders. Which considering the gallery of wonky faced fuckboobs involved, is faint praise indeed.
Of the four, he’s the most polished and has perfected his Tony Blair affectations to such a level that if this goes tits up he could make a decent living as a look-a-likey strip-o-gram for joyless, middle class hen parties.
– In the right light, if you tilt your head and squint a bit he looks a bit like a white Barack Obama. Unfortunately that’s where the similarities end.
– He sports what – I imagine – he considers to be a “winning smile” but, I’m sorry. The only contest that facial expression will win him, would involve standing in a field in Norfolk with a horse-collar round his neck, waiting for Bob Carolgees to pin a sad little rosette to his puffed out chest.
– His hair looks like a beret made from fuzzy felt.
That’s it, I could spend the whole day doing this, but I have stuff to do. Good luck to eveyone involved and may the best man-shaped boggle eyed fuck win.