A long tradition in the Liddle household on a Saturday morning is to read aloud sections from the Guardian Weekend magazine and fall about laughing. It is of course the sole reason we buy the paper. Two regular features in particular create a quite enormous amount of merriment. The first, Blind Date, is where two of the paper’s readers are brought together to see if they fancy copping off with each other (they almost never do, for good reason).
It’s not a bad idea, to be honest – but, oh, Christ help us… the people. Epicene smirking hipsters; growling diesel dykes; ingenuous gayers with multiple piercings; ugly, embittered, hummus-breathed third-sector workers; rancid, angry, middle-aged harridans of either gender; smug, dim-witted perpetual students. If you are ever tempted to vote for Sir Keir, just read a few of the Guardian’s Blind Date columns and remember that the people within will be deliriously happy if Starmer wins.
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