Hard-On

It seems to be a trend in all Labour parties across the Anglophone sphere to pack out the ranks with cronyist dynasty droids, blather on about social democracy, and rake in the cash.

Now that Cindy Hardon has been sussed – although handing over slices of de facto sovereignty to Beijing can’t have endeared her to swathes of NZ citizens – it’s time for a frenzy of mock despair at her sudden fall.

Essentially, she jumped into the abyss of lucrative public speaking gigs before she was worn like a slipper by the electorate, or more likely her own party.

She’s not some high-achieving super-executive who’s burned out. She’s a charlatan who’s been found out.

No more hard-ons for Jacinda.

Loathing her was perpetually dismissed by her fawning, Moonie entourage as ‘misogyny’.

Do me a favour.

She’s a smug, smirking, social mountaineer on a continual expedition to the moral high ground.

The flak she took was a by-product of her modus operandi.

Now, we hear, she’s ‘got time to get married’.

Yeah, right. She’s been genuinely so busy, she could never get a celebrant to swing by for fifteen minutes to do the honours?

By the same logic, she must have been too busy to eat food, which is clearly a nonsense.

Still, anything to accentuate the ‘great sacrifice’ of public service.

Nobody likes being mugged off by politicians, but it’s the ones who claim their shit doesn’t stink, who deserve a slap.

And that’s not misogynist. Have you ever seen anybody more deserving of a poke in the eye?

Thought not.

Still, it’s not all doom and gloom. Given the speed at which she’s happy to throw on a headscarf, there must be a plum job waiting for her with the Liberal Democrats in the UK.

Roll on Ramadan!

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