Ben Stokes now the UK’s preferred Prime Minister

He bats, he bowls, he fields like a demon – damn it, he could probably sort Brexit with a mighty swish of his dashing willow. Everything points to the fact that Ben Stokes is now The People’s choice as Britain’s prime minister.

He would take over from the honorary president of the Bumbling Old Etonians Cricket Club, Boris ‘Golden Duck’ Johnson. Stokes has just seized a miraculous victory from near certain disaster. Number Ten beckons for England’s Number Five.

“Ben Stokes could sort out Brexit with a stick of rhubarb,” opined Sir Geoffrey Boycott, reverse swept up in the Headingley hysteria. “He would knock Macron, Merkel and Tusk for six, as easily as if they were Australian bowlers!”

Indeed the political team GB needs a miracle of Stokesian proportions. But this near-miraculous victory has given Brexiters hope.

“If Ben Stokes can pull off an impossible victory against the Australians, what can’t he do?” asked a sweaty, drunk but ecstatic man who only gave his name as ‘Brexity McBrexitface’. “The Irish border problem would be hit for six before you could say silly mid-off!”

To be fair, the country is not unanimous in its choice of Ben Stokes. Labour still favour Jeremy Corbyn, although there are mutterings about bringing in Stokes’ staunch ally Jack Leach as the next Labour Leader. Jacob Rees-Mogg naturally favours W. G. Grace.

Former cricketers, and indeed anyone else who remembers the Test Match drama at Edgbaston in 2005, and at Headingley in 1981, are recovering from collective brain orgasm. They are joyously recalling former captain Mike Brearley’s impressive stint as interim prime minister after Margaret Thatcher had to retire hurt in The Falklands.

The massive problem that has stumped finer minds than Johnson’s will now be sorted by a man who can bowl several hundred overs in the sort of 50 degree heat only an English summer can provide, score more often than the current incumbent, and never be caught with sandpaper in his pocket.

At least until 4 September, when Ben Stokes will be required to quit politics and return to test cricket. Play up! Play up! And play the game!

UK confident it can find a technological solution to Boris Johnson

The UK has been given an ultimatum. Within 30 days, it must find a technological solution to Boris Johnson.

Despite this blistering timetable, Britain’s best boffins are on the case. Up and down the length and breadth of Merrie Englande, wannabe Wallaces are dashing to their sheds to find the solution.

LCD Views’ Wing And A Prayer correspondent met leading inventor and computer nut, Mike Rowe-Chipps.

“I’ve already created a functional prototype,” said Rowe-Chipps excitedly. “I call it Zaphod Bumblebot. Look at this!”

He placed an order for the destruction of the British Isles in front of the android. It seized a pen, and scrawled the salutation ‘Love and kisses, Zaphod’.

“I haven’t quite synchronised the voice yet,” explained Rowe-Chipps, as the robot’s Stephen Hawking-like voice said “Golly goodness! Fibble fabble! What a to-do, old bean!”

Moaning remainers have created their own killjoy creation, codenamed Marvin. Its database is full of comments from Twitter correspondents with ‘FBPE’ in their handle. Its very first words were ‘I think you should know I’m very depressed.’

Paranoid androids apart, the specifications for the Boris bot are extensive. It must be sufficiently different to the obsolete Maybot, which is currently situated in a museum blurting out statements like “Strong and stable!” and “My deal or no deal!” at random intervals.

There are two particular details which Rowe-Chipps and his fellow inventors are finding difficult. That irritating “What the Dickens is going on here?” facial expression, and the tendency to shag any presentable female. “I have to wear a chastity belt whenever Zaphod Bumblebot is turned on,” reflects Rowe-Chipps ruefully.

Experts who have read the relevant documentation have realised that the irresponsible Zaphod is, ultimately, redeemed by the boring Marvin. Their findings have, of course, been dismissed by opinionated government wonks.

Will it work? Possibly not, as it’s probably infinitely improbable.

We must keep the Irish border open, says man wanting to close our borders

Schrödinger’s border? Boris Johnson insists the Irish border must remain open and frictionless. Priti Patel insists our borders must close. Make your minds up, folks!

The man in supposed charge is boxed into his corner, and unable to get out due to the weight of bullshit in his way. He has access to a number of tools – none bigger than Dominic Raab – but refuses to dig himself out of trouble.

Raab, meanwhile, will say anything his big boss Boris wants him to, without anything ever passing through his brain. If you need a man to call a spade a f***ing screwdriver, dum dum Dom’s your man.

Priti “Polly” Patel parrots anything the Leave.EU team wants her to. With the old team reunited in Boris’ back room (and his back door, who knows), it is permissible to say any old crap so long as it is sufficiently Brexity.

Dominic Cummings, the evil genius driving the Johnson government, doesn’t give a shit. He just wants enough controversy to keep the lefties arguing while No Deal Brexit happens under their very noses.

Cummings declared that the border paradox was a matter for the Prime Minister to deal with. He granted LCD Views an interview with Boris at any convenient time, so long as Johnson was unavailable.

Brexit will allow the UK to set its own rules, tariffs, customs arrangements etc.. These will be different to the EU’s (otherwise, what’s the point?), so a hard border is inevitable.

“It’s a tricky one, so it is,” remarked Irish expert Anne Trim. “If we leave, there will be Troubles, if we stay there will be double. There’s always some sort of Clash whenever we hear London calling. Should we stay or should we go? Or just leave us alone, begorrah!”

Johnson wants to eat his cake and have it, but this particular cake was roundly rejected three times. It’s a bit stale now. Why not start all over again?

Operation Yellowbelly: no plan is better than a bad plan

The new name for No Deal planning is not Operation Yellowhammer, as previously believed. The true name is Operation Yellowbelly.

Yellowbelly reveals that we are looking at three months’ worth of food shortages, fuel shortages and medicine shortages. And this is a conservative estimate, not a Conservative estimate.

Boris Johnson and his acolytes know this, of course, yet still they stick doggedly to their Brexit plan. Except there isn’t a plan, just run down the clock and crash out regardless. Apparently no plan is better than a bad plan.

The People, all of whom definitely voted for this, will suffer. They will starve, be denied essential medication, and be unable to travel to work because the petrol will run out. All so a bunch of very rich people can have another tax break.

Brexiters have given up telling us how great Brexit will be. They have given up saying, it will be tough but we’ll get through it. They have given up saying it must be done to satisfy democracy. It’s do or die. Or, for many of us, do and die.

Doing nothing is the order of the day. No plan means no plan, and big talk and no action is this government’s modus operandi. Let the disaster happen, then blame somebody else and scarper. Let’s just hope nobody notices!

Yellowbelly relies on all the major players being completely chicken. It’s doctrine states that nobody will have the guts to tell it as it is, which is ironic given that so many online Brexit fans claim to do just that. Our goose is cooked, our turkeys can’t wait for Christmas, the fox rules the hen house. What the cluck?

But no plan is what they want. The bigger the crash, the more money our cowardly friends will be able to make from the wreckage. So that’s all right then. Thanks guys.

No coward is better than a bad coward. Who will be brave enough to stop this farce? Answers on a postcard please.

Indy Poll Shocker : Support for Scottish independence booms in England as millions seek options post Brexit


“It is quite a shock,” a pollster for polling firm, CONres, told LCD Views, “but it helps explain why Brexit isn’t a success yet.”

The presumed talking down of the GREAT LEAP BACKWARDS by heretics is the most likely reason for the EU not yet BOWING TO THE DEMANDS of GLOBAL BRITAIN.

“Some say it’s the fact the EU is a rules and treaty based organisation, the only way to get dozens of democracies to work together in a union, and the blatantly inhuman way the British government has threatened the well-being of millions of EU27 CITIZENS OF NOWHERE explains why BRUSSELS HAS NOT BENT THE KNEE. But the poll reveals the reason is FIFTH COLUMNISTS in England itself.”

It’s thought that Brussels has long had a patriotic feeling vibe machine, or PFVM, directed at Blighty, mostly likely on undercover French fishing vessels.

“The lack of purity of essence in millions of people in England is detected by Barnier and he feeds back the results to the EU27 leaders. This has led to an overconfident stance in negotiations so far. It’s definitely not anything to do with all Brexit supporting politicians being complete and total fantasists who couldn’t negotiate their way out of a wet paper bag.”

But clearly the people who will suffer the most once ENGLAND IS FREE AT LAST will be the Scottish.

“They won’t be able to build homes fast enough north of Hadrian’s Wall, if this poll is anything to go by. That’ll learn them. And where will they put the skills, feeling of relief and assets the fleeing non-fascist English will bring with them?”

Ha! They don’t have an answer to that!

Similar polls will be conducted this week in Wales, Northern Ireland and Cornwall. If the results are the same, they’ll also be in trouble of overpopulation once we’ve made a success of Brexit and they’ve gone independent.

Global Britain. So long as the globe is as small as the minds of the politicians driving forward the disaster capitalist project of Brexit, we’ll make a success of it!

Post Mortem Pensions : Inheritance millionaires say raise state pension age from 67 to ‘the day after you’re dead’

COMPASSIONATE CONSERVATISM : The Tory think tank of Irritable Duncan Syndrome have hit another home run today by working out what to do with poor people who want to eat when they’re elderly.

“Don’t pay them till they’re dead,” IDS proudly said, while rubbing wax made from the fat of virgins on his head, “and they have to collect the pension in person or they don’t get it.”

The deeper thinking behind the move is believed to be the continuation of a seriously knotty problem.

“It’s fatter tax havens or poor people being able to enjoy a retirement?” IDS shrugged, “it’s a no brainer.”

IDS is of course famous for the invention of ‘Universal Credit’. A revolution in welfare for which he was awarded the ‘Nosferatu Award for Sucking the Life Out of People’. With the suggestion of raising the pension age to a point post mortem he looks like receiving more plaudits.

LCD Views would like to commend the work of men like IDS. To compensate for his (presumed) private awareness of deep inadequacy, and the twin to that of knowing he only achieved status through a wealthy chumocracy, by punishing poor people with Victorianesque policy, he can rest easy at night believing he’s achieved something all his own.

It’s also an impressive way to repay working class people who bizarrely keep voting for these moral voids and handing them power.

“We’re essentially trolling working class Brexiters,” IDS smirked, “by impoverishing the state via support for the hard right tax dodger’s con of Brexit they have brought this all on themselves. It’s quite a hoot.”

But anyone concerned they won’t enjoy a pension due to declining life expectancy in the post Brexit UK reality, is reminded to take comfort with the knowledge that as they toil through their autumn years, IDS will be sat back, inherited money overflowing, knowing he’s done his bit to improve your character by forcing you to work hard, until you’re dead.

Dominic Raab refuses to holiday in Bath, because he prefers showers

We’re all going on a summer holiday! With Parliament in recess, MPs are Getting On With Brexit by going on their jollies. But one man is unhappy. Dominic Raab is refusing to go to Bath, because he likes a shower of a morning instead.

“I’m always told that I’m a bit of a shower,” says the Secretary for Bloody Forriners. “And it’s true! A good shower washes away all the day’s muck. Politics is a grubby game sometimes, so it’s nice to feel clean and competent!”

Bath gets its name from the ancient Roman baths there. This is another reason not to go, according to our man in the shower cubicle.

“Roman baths? ROMAN?” he exclaims indignantly. “You mean, from the EU? Rome is in France, right? I’m not putting up with any foreign muck!”

Experts confirmed that Rome is indeed in Europe, and that the baths were constructed the last time the EU invaded Britain. That time, the legions swept away years of native inertia, replacing lovely original creaky infrastructure with horribly useful paved roads, mosaics, underfloor heating, decent sewerage, and of course baths.

Other MPs are on holiday too. Boris Johnson is obsessed with Bridge, though he talks a better game than he plays. He challenged Donald Trump to a game. Garden Bridge? enquired the orange numpty. No, Transatlantic Bridge, replied the pink numpty. Trump haggled him down to a round of Snap, which Johnson won by a convincing margin.

Jacob Rees-Mogg Esq is on a modern holiday to 1215. He is very excited. “Magna Carta! It’s the first time The People took back control from the liberal elite!” he said, almost losing that measured tone. “I can’t wait to witness it all over again!”

The previous Minister for Incompetence, Chris Grayling, didn’t manage to sort out a holiday for himself this year, though his constituency office is liberally garlanded with holly. “He’s got the hump,” said his exasperated secretary. “He is going around in a camel costume!”

To Bath, or not to Bath? It just won’t wash.

International governance ‘hot desk’ scheme will see Jacinda Ardern govern UK this Friday

ABOUT TIME TOO : The United Kingdom has been seen increasingly as a repressive, retrograde, banana republic in recent years, but that’s about to change!

From this Friday the UK is to take part in a limited trial of a new United Nation’s scheme to bring the corporate insanity of hot desking to international governance.

“Theresa May signed the UK up to the trial in the last minutes of her premiership,” UN rapporteur Mr Goode Govern told LCD Views, “and it seems Boris Johnson’s instant clear out of ideologically impure civil servants meant no one told him about it in time to pull out.”

As part of the trial no less than fifty governments around the world will see their top executive figures scramble for the presidency, or premiership, or monarchy of each others’ country as soon as work starts on Friday.

The UK is already slated for the New Zealand premier because organisers of the scheme decided it would be best to rotate a few leaders to start it, lest the collective prove too shy.

“Monday they go again,” the UN figure advised, “although if Ardern enjoyed her long weekend in the UK, you may find she’s at the office early enough to get Downing Street again.”

But supporters of the Johnson government have slammed the trial and threatened to withdraw prematurely. Something Mr Johnson has never before achieved in any endeavour, except ones involving accountability and honesty.

“ Mr Johnson can’t be expected to get out of bed before midday, shower, change, ruffle his hair, boof an unsuspecting posh filly, ruffle his hair some more and get to work early enough to get anything but the least desirable country.”

The UN however is unrepentant.

“We’ve put Donald Trump down to run Saudi Arabia, which should get interesting,” the UN man added, “although we fully expect the Saudis to just dazzle him with that magic light ball they showed him when he visited before. That’s if he gets off the golf course and turns up to work at all.”

How the UK will benefit from having Ms Ardern as prime minister, even temporarily, is apparent.

“After nearly a decade of this toxic regressive Conservatism? Even a long weekend of an actual human in charge of the country will be a tangible relief.”

Liar! Liar! Boris Johnson accuses his pants of collaborating with fire

IT’S ALIVE! IT’S ALIVE : The Frankensteinian creation of privilege and 55 Tufton Street, Boris Johnson, has used a Facepamphlet Dead address to accuse his pants of collaborating with fire.

Mr Johnson, prime minister of a rapidly dis-uniting Kingdom (that’ll be all the lies), spoke out after being unable to speak without smelling smoke.

“As Mary Shelley said on the famous morning of her sailing adventure down the River Clyde, there’s no smoke without fire. Oh my God! My pants are alive!”

The address to the nation, which was scripted to be delivered with a big wooden spoon and fork, as is used to dish out salads, in this case word salads, was given over the social media platform so Mr Johnson could evade scrutiny.

“Not that he cares,” our political truth correspondent, Mr Desp Air, said, “he’ll just make a racist remark to distract attention from his lies. It’s proven to be a very successful strategy with a sub-section of lobotomised voters and members of parliament.”

But the accusation of collaboration between Mr Johnson’s pants and the hot element push the Johnsonian bar even lower.

“It’s impressive,” our analyst continued, “he’s taken a break from being a shite Churchill impersonator to having a crack at Mussolini. It’s interesting to see how low a populist will go. Especially the use of such inflammatory language when the political climate is already febrile. People are in the courts for making death threats to MPs opposed to the nationalist politics gamed by Mr Johnson and co, and here he is with this language?”

It’s unlikely the speech will have the desired effect though. It’s more likely to add more fuel to an already toxic and blazing flame.

Nice country, we’ll take it! Martians agree to take IMMEDIATE control of UK after BREXIT!

JOHNSON BOOSTED BY INTERPLANETARY ENVOY : UK’s last human (using that label very loosely) Prime Minister, Alexander Boris de Piffle Willy, has received a massive BOOST today after a visit from Martian Envoy, John Bolt-on.

Mr Willy received Mr Bolt-on at his temporary London address, 10 Downing Street, which Mr Willy is using as lodgings until his next door neighbours hear a screaming match with temporary girlfriend, Someone Someone Till-thenext-Someone.

Speaking after the tête-à-tête a visibly impressed Mr Willy spoke to reporters outside his temporary home.

“May I first just say how impressed I was with the Martian Envoy and his declaration of peaceful intentions,” Mr Willy enthused, thrusting one hand skyward in a flat palmed salute, “today marks not the beginning, but the deepening of a special relationship that will put the one enjoyed by Tony ‘T-bone’ Blair and Dubya in the shade. They called Blair the poodle, what will they call me? I’ll tell you what, the British Rottweiler. Or perhaps a more traditional British dog. Some sort of terrier,

“But nonetheless, regardless of which species of Canis lupus familiaris is chosen to describe my good self, let me say how IMPRESSED (more arm waving, even a fist pump) I was with the Martian Envoy’s declaration of the possible joint, fiscal benefits between the United Kingdom and his empire.”

Mr Willy went on to mention that the only thing that stood between the harmonious future was a failure to deliver Brexit.

“Which is why, DO OR DIE, my government will deliver on the result of the criminally manipulated, lie strewn, hard right con of the United Kingdom made possible by the naivety of my old school chum David ‘hug a hoodie’ Cameron.”

As to what the UK can expect to gain from the union, Mr Willy was definite.

“Massive cost savings in the running of our national health service. This will be achieved by the complete handover of ownership to our new overlords. And cost savings will be vital as we develop the medical conditions of increasing obesity, heart disease and diabetes brought about by the revitalisation of our food sector. For too long the unelected technocrats have kept hungry Britons from hormones and antibiotics. Well no more!”

As to what Mr Willy expected to receive personally?

“I think not of myself,” he said, with a smirk, “but I am heartily cheered by the Martian ambassador’s offer of keeping my head in a fully self contained sphere after Brexit. This will allow me to enjoy the thrill of interplanetary travel without the trouble of passport queues.”