Hallo Readers,
What is the point of Rishi Sunak? He is about as much use as tits on a fish. His own backbenchers are fed up with him and judging by the funeral expressions on the faces of his Front Bench as they sit behind him in the Commons, they seem to be of the same view. Sunak is running out of time to make the Tory party a viable option at the next General Election, which could be at any point between now and the end of the year. No one, not even his own mother, believes that he can pull it off. At Prime Minister’s Question Time, Sunak does not even make an attempt to answer Starmer, preferring to revert to sneers, smears and petty insults. Both Cameron and Johnson perfected the lofty arrogance of the public school toff. Sunak can only manage the disdain of the sixth form substitute on the school debating team, having had to step in at the last minute to replace some spotty lad struck down by a chest infection.
It is of course unlikely that Sunak will put us all out of our misery and call the Election early. He might as well clock up two years in office and make full use of the Prime Ministerial jet. But for many Tory MPs, it is the equivalent of death by a thousand cuts while they contemplate the prospects of unemployment, having to pay for their own postage stamps and the loss of regular gigs on Newsnight. One such is the pompous arse that is “Sir” Simon Clarke, knighted in Boris Johnson’s resignation list for services to sycophancy. He was Johnson’s Chief Secretary to the Treasury for about a year and then had a dizzying 49 days as Liz Truss’s Secretary of State for Levelling Up and Housing. When the Truss train hit the buffers, he was relegated to the backbenches. This week he wrote an article in the Daily Torygraph in which he urged the PM to resign and said “Rishi Sunak is leading the Conservatives into an election where we will be massacred”. This may be the most intelligent observation he has ever made. Unsurprisingly, his colleagues have professed outrage and disapprobation at his remarks and told him to go away and be quiet. Even they know that another leadership election, the third in three years, would look very silly. They are resigned to going down with the ship, glug, glug, glugging their way to obscurity. And so we can look forward to more of the same Government ghastliness for months to come – a country where nothing works. The NHS is at breaking point, the trains are either on strike or just plain useless and we seem to be sleepwalking into a war over the actions of the Houthis, a group of people of whom no one had ever heard. All we can do is to grit our teeth and wait for it to be over.
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We start our review of the week’s cl0thing crapulence with the Sundance Film Festival singer (and now actor) Camila Cabello wearing something unpleasant at the premiere of her new movie Joe Pearce.
Seriously? WTF is all for recycling but taking something ugly and making it uglier may save the planet but it also damages a lot of retinas, her’s included. The squiggly tits are – literally- nauseating (clock the tan lines) and the skirt makes her look as if she has rolled in pigshit.
Next up, we have the gruesome twosome of loony-tunes singer and Man of God Kanye West and his sort-of-wife Bianca Censori.
Kanye is another one favouring jeans coated in pig-excrement. As for his fragrant wifey, she looks like a nun who has taken up fish-gutting. You can almost smell the entrails…..
And talking of Kanye, here is one of his exes (for about five minutes), actor and bits-flasher Julia Fox wearing not very much. No change there.
If the Sugar Plum Fairy went to a fancy dress party as a pole dancer, this is what she would look like. The nipple-ribbons are particularly to be deplored, as is the string of pleasure pearls on the handbag.
To Paris Fashion Week and singer Zendaya wearing Schiaparelli.
Question – when she wants to sit down , what does she do with the horse’s tail?
Here is actor Barry Keoghan at the premiere of Apple TV’s series Masters of the Air, wearing Burberry.
The trousers are bulging around his ankles but the real horror is the furry tea cosy masquerading as a top with its logo resembling a giant inkblot.
Now we are in Milan where we find gazillionaire Jeff Bezos and his fiancée Lauren Sanchez. She is wearing Dolce & Gabbana.
WTF is sure that it was his sparkling personality that first attracted TV Entertainment reporter Lauren to gazillionaire Jeff. She is equally sure that there has been some interference with the workings of nature. The dress is super-trashy and cheap-looking and those lips were last seen on a mega-weird fish called a Placidochromis Phenochilus Mdoka.
Next up is singer Doja Cat wearing …well, take a look. Scroll down slowly and have a receptacle handy and the number of a health professional on speed dial.
MINGE!!! MASSES OF MINGE!!!! YURGLE!!!
This is not so much a Minge Moment as a Minge Month…. Call for the Canesten!!!!
And finally, rapper Megan Thee Stallion flanked by pals model Cara Delevigne and singer Renée Rapp.
That is not a dress. That is a caramel-coloured female condom.
This week’s It’s Got To Go comes from WTF aficionado WTF of Islington. Regular readers already know that WTF hates Donald Trump with a passion because he is ignorant, unpleasant, dishonest and an enemy of democracy. And orange. Now, everyone knows he is orange. But he has been getting more and more orange, so that he has left orange in the rear view mirror and is currently settled on rancid kumquat. I mean LOOK AT HIM!!!!!
Not only has he got a face like a tin of condemned veal, there is NO ONE on God’s earth who has skin that colour. And once he starts sweating under the lights, he gleams like a gilded church dome at sunset. It’s awful. He’s awful. It’s Got To Go.
OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. Please keep sending in your suggestions for It’s Got To Go and your top comments, which WTF likes more than anything. Let us meet again next Friday. Be good x