Why Did the Inchcock Party get No Votes?

Statements from Inchock Party Members in their failure to get any votes in the May General Elections.

Raving reporter Dunc the Hunk interviewed some of the remaining members of the party to get their views on the abject failure.

Inchcock:

Following the highly surprising result in the May General Elections – the fact that our Inchcock Party got no, nil, keine, nema, acune votes at all, may have electors perceiving the wrong message. It does concern me that our standing members failed to vote for themselves somewhat.

I think the supply of Rumanian lager and Irish Vodka I’ve obtained should encourage members to stick with the party and try again perhaps?

Danny Soz:

Wot? We ain’t failed mush! I’m drawing up a new manifesto now.

We is going to bounce back with a vengeance.

Unlimited immigration, free lager for the under 18’s, close all the prisons down, make smoking Golden Virginia compulsory and ban UKIP.

Rachel Headturner:

The elementary and fundamental causes of the Inchcock Party’s failure in this election can be attributed to the nepheliad-like leadership from Inchcock himself.

He set out to vote and ended up at the hospital haematology department, caught a bus to go back to the election booth and realised he had got on the wrong bus. Got off of it and caught another into Nottingham City centre.

Where as he approached the bus-stop to get to his election ward to vote he was arrested for feeding the pigeons in the city centre.

By the time he was released on bail the voting booths had closed down!

I ask you, how did we stand a chance with that ‘Whoopsiedangleplop’ prone pillock in charge.

I will be making a challenge for the leadership of the party in readiness for the next elections.

Shirley Shazaam:

Unfortunately I was decorating the new house when voting day arrived.

I was getting on tremendously well until I came across Mike Steedenski in his chair watching the TV and having a drinkie-phoo, and had the devils own job of moving him so I could get to the fish aquarium to paint it.

He slid into a stupor and slid off the chair you see… this enabled me to get some of the emulsioning done on one end of the fish tank, but as I was just finishing that, he stirred and tripped me up causing the paint to go all over the new carpet and he was sick on it.

The ambulance arrived and managed to remove the paint-roller from his rear end, and by then it was… oh… sorry, what was the question?

Mike Steedenski:

One election day, there I was deep in concentrating on the election results on the Adult Channel when the missus foolishly came near me with the Chinese produced Ukrainian emulsion paint we got from Lidl. She knew I wus allergic to the fumes and I passed out, spilling me Absinthe and cherryade drink.

Despite it being her foolish actions that made me topple over and the wench she seemed annoyed with me – and attacked me with the paint-roller as I was coming round. Women eh?

Still it’s a shame about us missing voting cause I was in the A&E having a certain cavity checked for any damage caused like.

Still I can go back to me Traffic Warden job.

Alienora Funbutt:

The intricateness of analysing the cause of the Inchcock Party failure lies within the confusion brewed within the politically accepted pedegorisation of acceptable failures as opposed to the correctionalisation of tactical preparation and responses as one would expect.

The exoticness is plain to see, and further development of positionally adopted autonomous actions would not necessarily tremefy the party’s leadership, but rather encourage a new more agreeable standard and a much more acceptableness and understanding of the needs of both electors without grandiloquence. And then we could start having raves on a regular basis to replace party seminars. We still might not win – but it would be fun!

Big Gazza:

I think that we were perhaps always never not going to get any votes yer know. Hic!

The sooner they bring back the cat and genuine pork scratching the sooner things will not get no better if not worse!

By Inchie

73 years of age, pretty ugly, short, bald, pot-bellied, in ill health. Decaying physically and morally. Metal ticker, Duodenal Donald, Saccades-Sandra, Arthur Rheumatoid Itis, Hernia Henry, Hard of Hearing Hank, Bad eyesight Boris, Reflux Roger, Peripheral Neuropathy, Nerve Neurotransmitters Not-working Wendy, Bladder Cancer Chris, Stuttering Sandra, Haemorrhoid Harold, Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis... there are others, but I've tired myself out, now! Hehehe! Oh, then I had a stroke! Failures, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops are my Forte... Hehehe! I love making folk smile when I can. TTFNski!

5 comments

  1. mikesteeden – An aging old fool devoid of common sense and incapable of changing a light bulb. A ‘lefty’ at heart; an atheist by nature; I have no desire to be taken seriously! Certain quotes seem to sum me up I think! 'If its got a face I don't eat it!' - Paul McCartney 'Isn't it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too?' - Douglas Adams (1952-2001) 'I almost cared' - No recollection of who said this! 'Man created God in his own image' - as above. 'UKIP if you want to; I'm staying awake' - one of mine!
    mikesteeden says:

    Splendid stuff Sir!

  2. Kentucky Angel – Owensboro, KY – I'm a somewhat normal, extremely old, grammy, living in Kentucky, and living with MS since the age of 15. Just turned 72, so that's a lot of years. I would tell you how many, but I flunked math, and numbers give me a headache, so I avoid them at all cost. I love to crochet, knit, scrapbook, cook and visit with friends in the lobby of the building I live in. Most of the time I have a sense of humor. Other times I don't. At one time I was a musician with a guitar, but after age and time, plus a few falls, I can no longer play my guitar, so it now lives with my son. Now I play the radio, always with perfect pitch. Well, almost always. Depends on the station or the CD I'm listening to. I try to find something to laugh about every day, another way to get thru each boring day without picking my nose in public.
    Kentucky Angel says:

    My vote is always for sale Inchy. I could have stuffed several boxes with votes and you would have won the election. So sorry. Stupid heat stroke! Mine as well as the one my computer modem had.

    1. Inchie – Nottingham. UK. – 73 years of age, pretty ugly, short, bald, pot-bellied, in ill health. Decaying physically and morally. Metal ticker, Duodenal Donald, Saccades-Sandra, Arthur Rheumatoid Itis, Hernia Henry, Hard of Hearing Hank, Bad eyesight Boris, Reflux Roger, Peripheral Neuropathy, Nerve Neurotransmitters Not-working Wendy, Bladder Cancer Chris, Stuttering Sandra, Haemorrhoid Harold, Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis... there are others, but I've tired myself out, now! Hehehe! Oh, then I had a stroke! Now awaiting Cataract & Glaucoma operations. Tsk! Failures, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops are my Forte... Hehehe! I love making folk smile when I can. TTFNski!
      Inchcock says:

      Haha, a good idea Angel. Maybe you could join us in the next campaign? Any ministry you’d like to be head of gal? TTFN

      1. Kentucky Angel – Owensboro, KY – I'm a somewhat normal, extremely old, grammy, living in Kentucky, and living with MS since the age of 15. Just turned 72, so that's a lot of years. I would tell you how many, but I flunked math, and numbers give me a headache, so I avoid them at all cost. I love to crochet, knit, scrapbook, cook and visit with friends in the lobby of the building I live in. Most of the time I have a sense of humor. Other times I don't. At one time I was a musician with a guitar, but after age and time, plus a few falls, I can no longer play my guitar, so it now lives with my son. Now I play the radio, always with perfect pitch. Well, almost always. Depends on the station or the CD I'm listening to. I try to find something to laugh about every day, another way to get thru each boring day without picking my nose in public.
        Kentucky Angel says:

        Of course. I could be, hummmm, Minister of Madness?

      2. Inchie – Nottingham. UK. – 73 years of age, pretty ugly, short, bald, pot-bellied, in ill health. Decaying physically and morally. Metal ticker, Duodenal Donald, Saccades-Sandra, Arthur Rheumatoid Itis, Hernia Henry, Hard of Hearing Hank, Bad eyesight Boris, Reflux Roger, Peripheral Neuropathy, Nerve Neurotransmitters Not-working Wendy, Bladder Cancer Chris, Stuttering Sandra, Haemorrhoid Harold, Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis... there are others, but I've tired myself out, now! Hehehe! Oh, then I had a stroke! Now awaiting Cataract & Glaucoma operations. Tsk! Failures, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops are my Forte... Hehehe! I love making folk smile when I can. TTFNski!
        Inchcock says:

        WSell there isn’t one of them at the moment… well they’re several really but they call them something else. Hehehe! However, should we win the next election I’ll propose creating one for you gal. TTFN

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