Car crash Cam does it again!


POLITI­CIANS do some pretty daft things in their end­less but point­less quest to im­press.

The sight of John Gum­mer stuff­ing a burger into his daugh­ter’s mouth at the height of the BSE cri­sis springs to mind.

Wil­liam Hague don­ning a base­ball cap to wan­der around an amuse­ment park in Cornwall is an­other.

Boris John­son on his bike. Gor­don Brown’s fake ric­tus grin. Ed Balls and Har­riet Harman sim­ply for be­ing them­selves.

Hague again for slurp­ing out of a co­conut while wan­der­ing around the Not­ting Hill car­ni­val with his mis­sus.

And of course, Ed Miliband – a bloke who gen­uinely ex­pects us to give him a chance at lead­ing the coun­try. Al­ways makes me snig­ger, that does.


But all of them pale into in­signif­i­cance when com­pared to the walking car crash that is David C***ing Cameron.

For some­one whose back­ground is in pub­lic re­la­tions – and don’t get me started on the hideous­ness of hav­ing an ac­tual PR man as Prime Min­is­ter – you’d think he’d know bet­ter. Alas, no. A week ago Eton’s finest mess did what PM’s have to do and went on a suck­ing up – er, trade mis­sion – to In­dia.

While he was there he did the usual – apol­o­gised for some his­toric bat­tle or two and did his best to sound like he might have even meant it.

And then news broke that there might have been some bribery go­ing on when In­dia bought twelve Bri­tish-made he­li­copters and a di­ver­sion tac­tic was needed.

So off came the shoes, on came the tur­ban, and at home a gob­s­macked na­tion shouted as one:


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