The Commonwealth Sham and another review for depression

The Commonwealth Sham is over, oops I meant the Commonwealth Games are over, and what a fantastic finally it was.  I'm sure there were many more people watching the closing ceremony than there had been in the total watching all the events which took place.  I say this because every time I turned on the television and watched some Herculean effort or superhuman concentration or activity I was personally dismayed at how few people there would be watching.  Vast spectator venues were built, but there were hardly any spectators.  It makes me wonder what actually does excite India, because it certainly wasn't these games.  In addition I wondered why in a country with such a large number of inhabitants they just didn't go outside the gates and give free tickets away.  Surely some of those would be hustle and bustle poor people could of taken a day off?  But this was the very reason they couldn't, they needed to live, and to live in New Dehli means hustling or working 18 hours a day for a pittance.  For the West knowing beyond the gates of the Games city such poverty exists suggests we had better watch out as yet a third or fourth depression begins to descend on the UK. 

Next week is the Comprehensive Spending Review.  The Liberal Democrat puppets are being cleaned out with a few good suppositories as Cameron puts his hands in a latex glove and exercises his fingers.  Yep, Osbourne has taken up Arnold Schwarzenegger like finger exercises and Vince Cable is learning to bend over and spread his cheeks a little wider.  They have sold their soul to the Devil and the only ones who don't know it are themselves.  Because next week their arses will be stuffed with Tory arms right up to the elbows.  Those lib dems love to have their strings pulled. By their own actions they willingly commit Harri-Kari.  Mark my words, in the next couple of years the double dealing soul sellers will leave the nastiest taste of bile in anyones mouth.  How could they side with the Tories?  Everyone knows a Tory never changes his blue rosette.  It's like a stick of rock from the seaside.  They will be true to their very nature.  So in warning to the entire British Nation come the 20th grab your ankles and sing Dixie.  God help the NHS.