‘Ello, stranger.

It’s been a long and happy break from seeing your Bertie Wooster boat race, as we authentic faux cockneys say.

Why happy?

I just answered that.

And yet, like Obamacare, I’m going nowhere. So suck it up, Verne Troyer.

Hilarious. I’ll tell you what is funny, though: Just the other day, I was flicking through Twitter and stumbled on our learned guvnah’s Obamacare repeal tweet, expressing his admiration for class dunce Paul Ryan and Komrade Cheeto for all their hard work replacing “the disaster that is Obamacare.” Worked out about as well as mistaking battery acid for colonic solution, I’m glad to say.

For an unresolved disaster, he isn’t half keeping shtum about it now, which leads me to believe that “disaster” was somewhat hyperbolic.

So cynical.

And I saw the same Tweet myself, even commented about how poorly it’s aging, which seems to be the done thing among the Twitterati nowadays. “Failure is not an option,” he wrote. Despite that being one of the most trite, meaningless expressions on the planet, it’s probably the only option now.

I’m not sure we should eat up valuable space in LEO crowing, but fuck me, what a totally predictable balls-up. Seven years of bullshitting gullible voters that they’d provide something far better and more affordable — when the Republican Party has never before done anything similar on any level. And then two weeks into it, they quit. They know even less about hard work than you do.

My prediction is that this Obamacare repeal sham has cast the die for the rest of this administration. That’s the thing with these extremist Tea Party/Libertarians: They don’t have a single practicable idea that’ll do anything other than damage the country — and predominantly damage their own economically disadvantaged voter base. On the other hand, there are just about enough strategically-positioned brains on both sides of the aisle in Congress to grasp that. Ergo, stalemate.

Agreed. Tax reform will be the same: a not-so-cunningly disguised, massive tax cut for the wealthy. It’ll all die in the Senate… if any of it gets there. This administration will achieve next to nothing outside of poorly worded, easily challenged, unconstitutional executive orders. Unless they get rid of Paul Ryan, who’s finally been unmasked as even less competent than we once thought.

Ryan finally wielding unfettered power reminds me of the time you saved up all year to buy a motorbike, only to discover your feet wouldn’t reach the ground, so you were forced to quit being a biker before you ever rode it.

That bike was defective.

A bit like Kentucky Republicans, but at least they’ll now have better access to the mental health they so desperately need. Must have been quite the electroshock to Bevin’s temple. Four veto overrides in a week — surely some sort of record.

Just like Ryan: The moment Bevin gets full control, the wheels come off. Leveraging Team Trump’s brand isn’t quite the bully pulpit he imagined it would be. I’ll give his Frankfort goons a tiny bit of cred for standing up to him, even if one of the overrides was basically a ploy to get their hands on Volkswagen’s lucre. But like that money, their principles won’t last.

Bevin is a tool for lashing his ship to Trump, but that’s about as surprising as the pope wearing a funny hat. They’re all being found out for what they are, what my dad would call “cocky-thicky.” Thick as two short planks. More front than Southend pier.

Here, returning to Twitter. What’s this #WeAreKY thing I keep on seeing?

Some bollocks marketing effort. It’s so shite I assumed you came up with it. An alternative to #WeAre49th, which would be more accurate but less likely to rouse the rabble. I saw Terry Meiners use it on his Facebook page in a post bragging about UK fans abusing the ref from the North Carolina game. Even for a local celeb, it was somewhat irresponsible.

Not that we Brits can talk, mind. Our own celeb politicians are currently making Bevin and Meiners look like Churchill and Attenborough.

Ah, Brexit, our national suicide note delivered on fancy headed paper. My only major concern was that they couldn’t even get Brenda to sign it. In 10 years’ time, they’ll be renaming our sceptered isle Appalachia-on-Sea. It does kind of fly in the face of our cultural and intellectual superiority complex. I mean, if it fucks us up badly enough we won’t be able to look down our noses on the rest of the world any more.

I wouldn’t worry about that. Come hell or high water, we Brits will always look down our noses at everyone else.

Well, foreigners are ghastly, aren’t they?