General Election day has arrived, so we’ve profiled the four male party leaders who are appealing for your vote.
For some reason they hardly instil confidence…
Nick Clegg
It’s clear that the last five years of coalition have left Clegg a broken man. Once the sprightly upstart of British politics, he now possesses the demeanour of a beleaguered school teacher counting down the days until retirement.
While his pupils stab each other with compasses and hold ‘who can do the loudest fart?’ competitions, Clegg sits motionless at the front of the class trying to remember whether he put underpants on that morning.
Sadly, all he can recall is an endless collection of staged smiles, limp handshakes and the fear that, yes, he’s going to end up getting into bed with David Cameron again. He’s a man we’re forced to pity, and no-one ever feels comfortable about that.
I don't know where people are getting the idea that Nick Clegg has given up and just doesn't care anymore. pic.twitter.com/LzCY04snsz
— The Artist Formerly Known as Cllr (@JustPlainTim) May 5, 2015
Ed Miliband
That mate you always have to explain when two disparate friendship groups come together. “Ed? No, he’s grand. He’s a mate. Yeah, I’ll ask him to stop staring at you.”
Miliband’s transfixed gaze into the camera whenever he’s on television betrays his hopeful intention to “act naturally” – the greatest challenge any spin doctor has ever faced. But contrasting with Clegg’s personal brand of death behind the eyes, there’s a boyish flicker beyond Miliband’s porcelain shell.
At times he appears to completely switch off, distracted by a memory of going to grandma’s for tea or the quandary of whether it’s unbecoming for a 45-year-old Labour leader to dust off his old Raleigh Chopper and take it for a ride around Downing Street.
“Hell yes, I’m tough enough” was not a line to kill the suspicion that he’s actually controlled by A.I.
https://twitter.com/Odd_Miliband/status/583172209755201536
Nigel Farage
The booming pub bore who won’t stop spraying you with spittle at the bar when all you want to do is return to your quiet little table in the corner and talk about the rising price of crisps. This country.
The curious thing about Farage is that no-one is completely convinced Chris Morris won’t suddenly own up to creating his greatest character yet, and we can all have a big bloody laugh about the parody xenophobia and involuntary bodily functions.
Farage can basically be boiled down into this paradox: He’s a man with a German-born wife and self-claimed income of more than £250,000 a year whose entire ‘appeal’ is based on stopping immigration and shaking an angry fist at the fat cats. Basically, he’s a bollock.
The face of a man who has shat himself and is hoping with desperate good humour that no one smells it #leadersdebate pic.twitter.com/HpGmqJiqrU
— David (@davidclewis) April 2, 2015
David Cameron
The moneyed brother-in-law who buys a track day for the two of you every Christmas and, after destroying your lap time, haughtily exclaims: “You can tell you drive a Renault!”.
That f**king Clio, why haven’t you sold it yet?
You promise yourself that the next time Cameron comes round with your sister and their son – who always asks why you live in such a small house – you’ll finally tell him he’s a massive w**ker when he turns his nose up at dinner, your proud collection of vinyl and the second-hand suite in the back room.
But despite how much you resent him, it can never beat that feeling of self-loathing and acceptance that, ultimately, his life is better than yours in every way. Still, you’ll replace the Clio soon.
Is Dave for keepers? #GE2015 pic.twitter.com/yhfVJs4zxz
— JOE (@JOE_co_uk) May 6, 2015
