Here is a Headline, me thinks, I would love to see one day...

The original headline is "BROWN: I'M SORRY - PM apologises over expenses scandal", but one can always dream...

Hmmm, me thinks that somebody's apparent patron seems to be thinking he'll be jobless pretty soon. And when one is unemployed, one does tend to prioritize things...

Hmmm, me thinks that when one is unemployed, one tends to lose, as time passes, influence in the place where one used to work...

Hmmm, me thinks that a certain British family, and their friends, are accompanying, very, very worried, this all thing about the MPs being so irresponsible with public funds...

Hmmm, me likes this irresponsible spending of public money...

Not that me likes waste, but if waste is what is needed to cleanse waste, then let there be waste then. Just enough to set aside those, and those near to them, that apparently seem not to want that there be any cleansing…

But me thinks that he who might pick up the broom might not imagine the amount of garbage he faces.

Me thinks that he'll start to realize that the broom swing starts somewhere in unthinkable places within the Kingdom and only ends up in lands far, far away in unimaginable places.

Such as, for example, me thinks, way South in a Republic, former kingdom and the oldest of friends, known in the Kingdom for receiving temporarily its subjects for holidays in beaches where the Atlantic is mistaken for a much smaller sea.

Then the man who will pick up the broom might, me thinks, think he might not have enough arm. Or, me thinks, might be made to think that he might not.

Then, me thinks that the man with a broom, realizing that he is between a wall and a hard place, might look around desperate for options in order to pacify all that anxiety from those who placed their naïve trust in him as the Great Broom-Master, and now eagerly await, in the greatest of suspense, for his action.

Me thinks then, that the Great Broom-Master-to-be, might me made to think that the people are easily pacified with minor unimportant passionate things that the people love to love and is thus easily hypnotized into comfortable submission.

And people, me thinks, love to love a dead beautiful little girl whose life was abruptly and prematurely taken from her by those who should’ve loved to love her.

The Great Broom-Master, might, me thinks, be convinced in simple pragmatic trade-off: give exposure to what is known, in exchange for the silence about all that Great Darkness that is to remain unknown.

And what, me thinks, is there to be exposed that is already known?

Well, me thinks, that in the Republic, could only be about a port, that is Free but by decree of name only.

In the Kingdom, me thinks, a scandal that the Brits do love to love. It involves, me KNOWS, not thinks, news and those that pretended they were making them, especially specifically some, negligence in those that pretended to be tender, loving caring people, and, those eyes, big and soft, so full of life to be, that, SUDDENLY everybody realizes that haven’t been alive for so long, and now stare innocently from beyond, asking US ALL, as she asked her parents shortly before dying “how could you NOT have come when you heard me crying all this time?”