– – LABOUR ROBDOGS PARTYTIME! – –
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He speaks with a forked tongue, indeterminately,
He steals from pensioners; he’s a gerontophobee!
He shows mordacity, & leads minaciously,
Accepts back-handers, anything, credulously,
Clothes, glasses, Arsenal tickets for free,
He comes across as being rather sleazy…
Lies by omission, with great nugacity,
He looks like a land-based manatee,
Lacking in sympathy and humanity,
He’ll cause more voters lachrymosity,
He brings out my hatred and lubricity!
With his fibs by omission and duplicity…
He forecasts that things will go bleakly,
He gives an aura of him being peccantly…
He answers questions in a roundabout way, evasively,
Subject changing, circuitously, obliquely, evasively!
His cabinet pep talks are more like an obsequy!
His compassion is woeful; he hates commonimity,
He can’t hide his conceitedness, ego or vainglory,
He failed to declare £16,200 in gifts from Lord Alli,
Accepted gifts worth £100,000! Verily!
At worst? He stole Winter Fuel cash from Inchie!
Who may not need to go on a diet of xerophagy,
Heat or eat… is a possibility!
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What graphics and photos did the computer, CorelDraw, MS Excel, MS Word, Norton, Ccleaner, Shaking Shaun, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, and Mini-Seizure-Sandra allowed me to save for use on this blog?

In a sort of chronological order.
Close up from the kitchen window, trying to get the trees and bushes to see the changing colours.

Afternoon, I think.

Sunset.

Nosh.

Not sure if I’ve used this one before or not.

Carer Kimberly.

Sorry, short, comp problems again.

TTFN