Boris Johnson’s Christmas Carol

Thatcher was dead: to begin with. There could be no doubt about that. Johnson had been to the funeral himself, sat near Osborne who was failing to hold back the tears. She was as dead as a doornail. Or less metaphorically, the 96 football fans who her government smeared and denied justice after Hillsborough.

It was a cold afternoon in early December, and after cancelling another interview, Johnson was heading home for an evening with a good Russian vodka given to him by a close friend. The knocker on the door of Johnson’s temporary accommodation seemed to form a face, the digits 1 and 0 became a winking eye and a nose that seemed to follow the average wage down a graph. And was what was once a letterbox a handbag?

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Sutton UKIPs: “shortage of poles in North Brum”

Wes Mundell, our political editor, kicks off our #hyperlocal coverage of the 2015 General Election with this dispatch from Sutton Coldfield…

Round the grounds 2015

No. 1 — the election view in Sutton Coldfield

UKIP sign board

Laminated signs: election edition

There’s also a shortage of proles in Sutton, and the few they have know their fucking place.

PC predicts: Tory hold.


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