If, dear reader, like me, you frankly couldn’t be arsed to get up and troll down to a polling station to cast your vote for some weirdo to be your  local PCC, then you’re not alone.

Yee Haw! Your Local PCC thanks you for your lack of vote. Still, fuck you! He’ll be busy counting his cash for a while, so just let those coppers run free and wild for a bit… Now for cigars, Whiskey,and hookers.

It seems barely anyone could be bothered. Middle class families with children were busy working out what to do with the missing child benefit coming round the corner, an increase in the cost of everything, and a monthly kick in the plums from the taxman.

Toffs were busy enjoying their latest tax breaks, and hiding their kiddy fiddler friends in organisations up and down the country as the witch hunt continues.

Poor people were busy being crushed into the earth under Tory boots.

Which meant that the old ladies smelling of wee, and officious local busy bodies manning the polling stations had nothing to do drink shitty tea. Or maybe  smoke a fat dooby, fornicate with each other, and plan post office robberies, whilst the odd drop-out stuck an X on a piece of paper.

Of course, the real crime here is that, rather than leave the policing of the police to Police Authorities made up of local councillors and the suchlike, who are already being paid, the geniuses in charge decided to create a new role.

A role paying between 65,000 and 100,000 pounds apparently. But somehow the same as was already being spent. Yeah, sure.

No. Really: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-19504639

I’d rather they had carried on as before, and spent the money on a couple of coppers, and a vicious attack dog, so that we might actually get some local policing.

What a fucking travesty.