So, the lady Conservatives probably won’t have a majority (honeys, if you can’t do it after 13 years, there’s something very wrong at the centre of your proposition. If you need a name, we have one right here) but our favourite individual result of the evening is that Peter Robinson.
Peter Robinson, nothing to do with the 70s clothes store or the delicious refreshing barley water beverage, everything to do with Christianity, homophobia and a dirty, shamelessly gay-hating 60-odd-year-old wife who likes to shag teenage boys on the side and giving them money (well, they’d need the money for shagging that, wouldn’t they?) while saying that gays should get help for mental health for they are an abomination *draws breath* is out.
Out, we say. As in, not in.
And it’s a shock. He is – sorry, was – Northern Ireland’s First Minister aka Prime Minister – and he suffered a swing of a 23% swing against him. Which is almost unheard of.
*wipes tears of pure water – and amusement! – from very bleary eye*