I don’t have a problem with David Cameron’s policies but with his shiny red face

It may sound shallow, but everything that is wrong with the Conservative Party is represented in David Cameron’s face. Putting aside and ignoring for now the policies, the broken promises and the manifestos, I find myself disliking the Conservative Party more than the power hungry Liberals and the increasingly right wing Labour Party purely for the reason that their leader, David Cameron, physically disgusts me.

I haven’t been able to fully put my finger on the reason either, for my utter revolution I experience when his face is forced upon me several times a day by the wonderful British media. One possibility could be that during the election campaign that airbrushed, shiny face was plastered everywhere, all over the television, all over the town: not one of us could get away from that smug and frankly quite scary portrait no matter where we went. And now he is Prime Minister it’s even worse, and his face is looking increasingly smugger day by day. It’s barely human now, particularly when he’s trying to fake sincerity as he meets single mums and the unemployed masses living on council estates across the country and pretends to care about their problems.

In interviews and in speeches he comes off as being slimy as well, like if he weren’t in the public eye he would be cheating on his wife and hanging out in seedy clubs and bars.

I think I hit the nail on the head when I get to the eyes though, the dead cold eyes of a sociopath simply mirroring the emotions he sees on the faces of those around him but never actually experiencing them. That might be a little unfair, I’m sure he does care about someone, himself, probably.

To some people of course the youthfulness of David Cameron was a huge pull in electing him as Prime Minister. Someone new, someone hip but for me that slight schoolboy chubbiness to the cheeks just reminds you that he was a posh public school boy born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

The main issue isn’t even that he is posh and that he oozes money from every pore of his body. There are plenty of other people that do that and I don’t have a problem with them. Nick Clegg after all is just as posh and almost as airbrushed, yet I don’t feel the same intense disgust for him as I feel when I see Cameron simpering over his wife on the television. Its simply that he tries to hard to pretend that he is actually a normal person just like the rest of us, that he’s cool and that he likes all the same things as we do. He’s down with kids. He’s hugging hoodies all over the country. It’s enough to want to make you throw up all over his Marks and Spencer suit. But of course, you should never judge a book by its cover. Unless the cover of that book reads: “I’m a massive twat.”