The Visage of David.

David Cameron’s smooth features on the other hand are often depicted as flattened by a tight fitting condom into a permanently flustered, verging on red, humph; an ever present explosion contained in a smugbag, his complexion still redolent of an over zealous nanny scrubbing along to, “If it doesn’t hurt it’s not clean,” and, “A little bit of damage makes the medicine go down….” But he too has the natural botoxed look of hereditary privilege. It defeats me why the English public vote Conservative knowing their allegiances are to those that count their fortunes in noughts not numbers and trickle down debt to the rest of us. Perhaps it’s their clear masterful vision of what we must suffer to attain our bright new future together. Lately it’s reminded me of cleaning out my shed. Out went all the things I no longer use, NHS, rusty spanners, local services, old bike wheels, and pensions etc to make more room for a bigger motorcycle. But if one looks more closely at those with clear masterful vision one perceives the singular performance of a one trick pony. Their confidence in their one way is merely the result of being unable to conceive of any other. “Well we’ve been doing this for generations and look where it’s got us old boy. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it yah.” But if you happen to be the rust on a spanner or the spokes of an old wheel watch out, it’s skippy time. In fact fuck it, I’ll knock the whole shed down and build a garage for my new Lamborghini.