Goodbye, And Thanks For All The Fish

The other, other legacy.

Is it is just me or can anyone else detect the faintest whiff of desperation in the air around Downing Street as our perma-grinned leader prepares to finally name the day and ride off into the political sunset?
Blair, that offspring of Thatcher and the cloven hoofed one, has only gone and had a 24-page dossier drawn up detailing what he claims are the triumphs of his administration - in other words, his legacy (it's Iraq, Tone). It's a right-riveting-read, it has to be said, although it does make Alice in Wonderland seem like a wholly factual travelogue.
Apparently, no-one now waits more than six months for treatment on the National Health Service. Could that be, I wonder, because legions of would-be patients die in the queues having contracted MRSA, a bug which is rampant in our hospitals since Blair's mentor decided to flog off cleaning services to private outfits which came in with astonishingly low tenders as each one only had total overheads amounting to two illegal immigrant workers, a bottle of Dettol and a Jaycloth? (No, the legacy is Iraq, Tone).
He also claims 2.5 million more people are in work since he came to power. No, what he should have said was that 2.5 million fewer people now show up on the unemployment statistics because, for instance, to qualify for disabled living allowance or incapacity benefit these days you have show that your head is missing. (It's Iraq, Tone).
He further alleges that crime is down 35 per cent. Jesus Christ! Don't these people have windows? If they do I suggest they open them one fucking day and take a look outside. We've turned into a lawless nation which makes Columbia look like The Maldives. (Sorry, Tone, but it IS Iraq).
As for having to hand round a report to fellow Labour (sorry, New Labour) MPs which sets out what you would like everyone to think about you, isn't that just a touch desperate, not to mention narcissistic? I mean, imagine you are at a party and it comes time to go. Your taxi is waiting outside. Would you, in all honesty, hand round a report to fellow revellers on your way out which said that you had been witty all evening, charming, entertaining and the life and soul? Aren't you just supposed to DO things, not CLAIM YOU HAVE DONE THEM?
Soz, Tony Baby, it IS Iraq. Your biggest achievement as you head off to coin it in on the lecture circuit in America will be to have helped further destabilise the Middle East, something none of the rest of thought was humanly possible. Saddam Hussain murdered thousands of innocent Iraqis and Kurds so you and Dubbya said he had to go. You came up with the interesting solution of creating a situation which has seen countless thousands more slaughtered - and it ain't over yet! God knows if it ever WILL end. You and your fuckwit buddy also managed to completely emasculate the United Nations by choosing to ignore some of its decisions while twisting others to justify YOUR war. You just wouldn't bloody listen to what the rest of us were telling you, then you lied, then you blamed others, then you tried to change the subject while innocents were (and still are) massacred for your arrogance. As for handing round a dossier to party-goers telling them how fab you have been, you have in fact smashed up the record player, buggered the family dog, urinated in the drinks cabinet and broken the toilet!
Once again, sorry Tone, it's Iraq. Live with it - God knows, the rest of us have got to. Now off you go to Grantham, there's a good pillock.