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JEREMY CLARKSON
I’m struggling to work out which way I should go at the election… but I’d rather vote for my dog than Keir Starmer
Many of the political parties have redeeming features but I do not agree with any Labour policies
LIKE almost every normal person in Britain, I’m struggling to work out which way I should vote in the forthcoming election.
Here in the Cotswolds, many houses are festooned with Lib Dem posters, and I can see why.
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They’ve promised to take us back into Europe and, as a Remainer, I can see the appeal of that.
But then we have Reform, and the fact is that when Lee Anderson opens his mouth on TikTok, I often find myself nodding quietly and thinking: “Well, he does have a point.”
So what about the Greens? Sure, they have some absolutely mad policies on most things, but they do say, and this appeals to me, that they would like cleaner rivers and better soil.
The Tories? Tricky one this. For the past few years they’ve been pretty much useless.
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Cowed by a fear of social media into a state of near paralysis, they’ve steered us into a world where the trains, the roads, the airports, the NHS and border control just don’t work any more.
And Mr Rishi leaving the D-Day events in France was incomprehensible.
But their heart’s in the right place on taxes and economic stability, and that’s important.
So now we arrive at the Labour Party, and I’m sorry, but I cannot find a single redeeming feature.
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In the entire campaign so far, not a single candidate has said one word that I agree with.
They want open borders, zero growth and everyone living in a bucket of shame because their great great grandad once bought a hairbrush that had possibly been made by slaves.
The Sun's Political Correspondent Noa Hoffman gives verdict as Nigel Farage launches Reform election manifesto
Their manifesto contains just 87 words on farming. Which, when translated into English basically say: “We hate you, you meat-eating rural halfwits.”
It’s even been suggested that inheritance tax will have to be paid on farm land.
Which means that in about 20 years’ time, there will be no farm land.
And therefore no food, apart from in all the town-centre, nuclear-free, South African peace stores, where you will be able to buy sustainable tofu.
I get, of course, that people are fed up with the Tories, but I’d rather vote for my dog than Sir Starmer’s merry bunch of ideological nincompoops.
Half of them don’t know what a woman is, and now it transpires Starmer himself can’t even define the working class.
He thinks it has something to do with people who work. But King Charles works, you idiot.
Working class is a state of mind. It’s a community spirit. It has nothing to do with whether you work or not.
What I hate most of all about Labour, though, is that they believe that if you work hard all your life and make some savings to tide you over in your old age, those savings are theirs.
And that they should be given to people who haven’t worked at all.
Which is why, come polling day, I’m praying there’s a box on the ballot paper which says: “Anyone but Labour.”
Don't get all shirty
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IT seems that Gary Lineker has been in trouble for wearing a T-shirt while appearing on television.
At first, I thought this might have something to do with the fact that a man should not be wearing such a garment when he is 63 years old.
But no. It turns out that the T-shirt in question is sold by Next, a brand that Gary advertises.
That’s a no-no at the Beeb, and rightly so. But speaking as a 64-year-old man I must confess that sometimes I appear on my farm show wearing a Diddly Squat baseball cap.
This is not because I’m promoting the brand. It’s because a cow is stuck, I need to get to her in a hurry, it’s raining and I’ve grabbed whatever headgear was closest to the door.
It was probably the same with Gary. He just needed some threads and that T-shirt was better than appearing topless.
That’s how men of our age think, I’m afraid.
“Can you see my genitals?” No. “Well I’m dressed then.”
THE authorities in Thailand announced this week that same-sex marriage is to be allowed.
And that puzzles me. I went to Bangkok once and it seemed to be happening on every street corner.
On the bright track
ON Wednesday evening, the sun was shining and the temperature gauge was where it should be at this time of year, so I grabbed a beer, fired up the Lambo and went off to harrow some of my farm tracks.
It was utter bliss. You don’t often hear a farmer say that, and especially not this year, when the weather has been unbelievably bad.
But it really was one of the happiest evenings at work I’ve ever had.
A walkie on the wild side for death-wish dogs
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A LABRADOODLE puppy fell off a cliff this week but by clinging on to a narrow ledge 600ft above the beach, it managed to survive until the emergency services could rescue it.
This sort of thing is far from uncommon. Dogs are always falling off cliffs and they always seem to survive.
Only recently, one of my idiot dogs leaped over a dry-stone wall only to discover there was a 40ft drop on the other side. And she ran off like nothing had happened.
Sometimes, though, things don’t turn out so well. I was speaking once to someone whose dog chased a seagull off a cliff in the Isle of Man.
The poor mutt was found dead on the beach below, but in her mouth were a lot of tail feathers and her face was frozen in an expression which seemed to say: “Got the b*****d.”
In a sorry state
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PLENTY of offending has been going on this week.
A London cinema has been forced to withdraw a movie written entirely by artificial intelligence in case it upsets people who write films.
Cat Deeley was forced to apologise on air after people with epilepsy complained about the moment when she said, while dancing, that she was having a seizure.
Then there’s my old mucker James May, who sparked fury on Twitter by saying he doesn’t like too much bunting.
Still, at least things will be better after Labour win. No, hang on a minute . . .
Cops so heifer handed
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THIS week, a man climbed on to the roof of a house in London and began throwing chimney pots and various other things into the street below.
Naturally, the police donned their riot gear and raced to the scene so they could stand on a nearby street corner and watch him.
This seems to be how the police think these days and explains why, when an idiot has glued himself to the road, they don’t cut his hands off at the wrist and throw him into a skip.
However, when a small and completely undangerous calf is on the loose, it’s a different story.
Because then they arrive at high speed in a two-ton pick-up truck and knock it over.
And then run over it for good measure.
Leccy louts
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EVERY week it seems, a bunch of not very bright people with BLT+ leanings and unpleasant hair wake up and decide that, to stop the world using oil, they should vandalise something.
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Last week it was King Charles’s portrait and this week they did Stonehenge.
So I’m wondering if maybe it’s time for a rival movement that goes around breaking windfarms and EV charging stations in a bid to Just Stop Just Stop Oil.
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