Plaid Cymru Santa's little helpers!
YOU COULD NOT MAKE IT UP?
Mark Drakeford panned Plaid Cymru for “throwing the kitchen sink” into a motion, describing a debate on the UK budget as the antithesis of responsible politics.
The former first minister lambasted the Plaid Cymru motion on the forthcoming UK budget which made a long list of calls from devolving the Crown Estate to introducing a wealth tax.
Prof Drakeford said listening to the debate reminded him of the “potpourri” round on the Criss Cross Quiz television game show he would watch while growing up.
“The one thing that every single part of this motion has in common is that not a single one of them lies in the hands of this Senedd. And in many ways, that is the antithesis of responsible politics. It says nothing at all about the things that we can do as a Senedd.” Oh dear me!
How Many Leaders Does a Party Need?
With regards to Plaid Cymru...quite a few!!!
IUEN WYN JONES
The subsidy for the North-South air link in Wales should be scrapped and the money saved invested in rail services, the Plaid Cymru conference decided.
But the call put delegates on a collision course with their leader Ieuan Wyn Jones who insisted last night that the handout would continue.
The weekday Holyhead to Cardiff air service was receiving an £800,000-a-year hand-out from the Welsh Assembly Government before the original company behind it, Highland Airways, collapsed earlier that year.
It was taken over on a temporary basis by Manx2, until a new formal tender can be agreed with an operator.
Critics dubbed the service ‘Ieuan Air’ because it is regularly used by the deputy first minister and Plaid leader from his Anglesey constituency.
LEANNE WOOD
Know has the Red Queen, she had two tones in her voice...one for the Welsh Assembly/Senedd and one for more distinguished conversation!
ADAM PRICE
Plaid Cymru's brain!
RHUN AP IORWORTH
Knows he will not be around for too long...so, he is brushing up on his Lee Evans impersonation routine!
PLAID CYMRU A TOXIC PARTY
Plaid Cymru faced serious scrutiny in 2023 after an internal report revealed a troubling culture of sexual harassment, bullying, and misogyny within the party. The investigation, led by former Senedd member Nerys Evans, found that Plaid had failed to implement a zero-tolerance approach and allowed unacceptable behaviour to go unchallenged for years.
One particularly disturbing account involved a journalist witnessing a Plaid politician sexually harassing a staff member. The journalist reported the incident to the party—without the victim’s consent—but the behaviour was not adequately addressed and continued.
The report described widespread “open secrets” about misconduct, a lack of trust in internal complaints systems, and a failure of leadership to protect staff. Party leader Adam Price later resigned, acknowledging the need for deep cultural reform.
The Cataclysmic Perils of Welsh Independence: A Survival Guide for the Union-Fearing Soul
So, you’ve heard whispers of Welsh independence echoing through the valleys. You’ve seen the dragon stirring. And now you’re wondering: What fresh chaos awaits if Cymru dares to stand alone? Fear not—here’s your definitive guide to the apocalyptic risks of Welsh self-determination, as told by those who believe the sky will fall faster than a soggy bara brith.
Once Wales declares independence, physicists warn that Offa’s Dyke may rupture the very fabric of reality. Time will reverse in Llandudno. Sheep will speak Latin. And the Brecon Beacons will become sentient and demand representation in the Senedd.
Without Westminster’s benevolent hand, Wales will be forced to adopt a barter economy based on daffodils and male voice choir solos. The Bank of Pontypridd will issue currency backed by rugby memorabilia and the ghost of Tom Jones’ youth.
Expect 17-hour queues at the Severn Bridge as English tourists attempt to smuggle in Gregg’s sausage rolls. Welsh customs officers—armed with harps and passive-aggressive sighs—will interrogate anyone who pronounces “Llanfairpwllgwyngyll” incorrectly.
BBC Wales will be replaced by “S4C: The Musical,” a 24-hour operatic retelling of Welsh history starring Gareth Bale and a holographic Aneurin Bevan. Netflix will geo-block Wales unless it agrees to co-produce a gritty drama called “Cawl Noir.”
Freed from British oversight, Welsh sheep—long oppressed and underrepresented—will form a militant union. Their demands: bilingual signage, wool subsidies, and a referendum on pasture sovereignty. The hills will echo with bleats of revolution.
Experts warn that independence will cause a mass migration of Welsh intellect to England, leaving behind only poets, philosophers, and people who can recite the Mabinogion from memory. In other words, a cultural renaissance.
This is Simon Thomas, a very disgusting and vile person!
Former Plaid Cymru AM Simon Thomas avoided jail after pleading guilty to making indecent images of children.
Thomas, also a former MP, admitted making more than 500 indecent photographs and 77 films - some involving children as young as six.
He quit the Senedd and his party after being arrested in July.
We ask was this part of the cover up by Plaid on the toxic culture in the Party?
Who actually is in charge?
In the enchanted valleys of Wales, where dragons nap and politicians’ flap, the Welsh Government is currently starring in its own soap opera: "Cymru Street – Where the Majority is a Myth."
Welsh Labour, led by Eluned “Morgan the Magnificent,” is running the show with 30 seats and 60 headaches. It’s a minority government, which in political terms means: “We’re in charge, unless someone disagrees.” Which is often.
Plaid Cymru, the party of poetry, passion, and passive-aggressive press releases, used to be Labour’s co-operation partner. But like a bad Tinder date, they ghosted Labour mid-2024, saying, “It’s not you, it’s your policies.”
Now, the Senedd resembles a game of musical chairs—except the music is a harp solo, and half the chairs are missing. Labour tries to pass laws with the elegance of a sheep on roller skates, while Plaid throws shade in fluent Welsh and metaphor.
Meanwhile, the Conservatives sit in the corner muttering, “We’d fix this if anyone liked us,” and the Lib Dems are still trying to remember where they parked their relevance.
The people of Wales, ever wise, watch the chaos and say, “At least the bins get collected.” Some even suggest replacing the Senedd with a pub quiz team from Merthyr—at least they’d agree on something.
And so, the great Welsh political saga continues full of drama, dragons, and daffodils. Tune in next week for “Who Voted for That?” and “Plaid vs Plaid: The Internal Rhondda Rumble.”
The Welsh Language!
The Cymraeg Crusaders: Guardians of the Vowel Order"
In the misty hills of Cymru, where consonants fear to tread and vowels roam free, a noble band of linguistic warriors patrol the land: The Cymraeg Crusaders.
Armed with dictionaries, dragon-shaped lapel pins, and an unshakable belief that everyone should know how to pronounce “Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch” before breakfast, these valiant defenders of the Welsh tongue are on a mission.
Their motto? “If it’s not bilingual, it’s not believable.”
They strike fear into the hearts of rogue road signs and rogue shopkeepers who dare to label “milk” without its rightful “llaeth.” They’ve been known to sneak into supermarkets at night, stealthily adding Welsh translations to cereal boxes and shampoo bottles.
Their leader, known only as The Bard of Barry, speaks exclusively in poetic Welsh haikus and once corrected a satnav mid-journey for mispronouncing “Aberystwyth.” The satnav hasn’t spoken since.
But don’t mistake their zeal for tyranny. These are not despots—they’re devoted dialect defenders, passionate about preserving a language older than Stonehenge and twice as musical. They just believe that if you can say “croeso,” you can say anything.
And while some may chuckle at their intensity, deep down, everyone knows: Wales wouldn’t be Wales without a bit of linguistic flair, a sprinkle of poetic justice, and a whole lot of hwyl.
The wrong Road
Wales currently runs a significant fiscal deficit—estimated at around £13 billion annually, or roughly 19–24% of its GDP. This is due to lower tax revenues and higher public spending per capita compared to the UK average. Independence would mean losing UK fiscal transfers, requiring Wales to either cut spending, raise taxes, or borrow more.
Wales collects less in income and corporation tax than the UK average, partly due to lower wages and fewer large businesses.
Most party’s say that the lack of a strong industrial base and reliance on external ownership would Independence difficult.
Wales would need to decide whether to create its own currency, use the pound informally, or adopt another currency. Each option has trade-offs in terms of monetary control, inflation, and investor confidence.
Like most countries, an independent Wales would likely run a deficit and borrow through government bonds. While this is common globally, the initial borrowing costs could be high without a proven credit history.
Despite its powers over the economy, health, education, and culture, the Senedd has struggled to ignite public imagination. Voter turnout limps. Legislative ambition stalls. And the chamber that was meant to resonate with the people often whispers in policy-speak, cautious and distant.
Despite its vocal presence, Plaid Cymru has never held a majority in the Senedd. Critics argue its disproportionate influence—especially in shaping cultural and language policy—and doesn’t reflect the broader will of the Welsh electorate. Party loyalty trumps public service, and where scrutiny is drowned out by spin. This is not a call for cynicism. It is a call for courage. For honest dialogue. For a Wales that dares to demand better.
Plaid are devisive!
In a time when the world is increasingly fragmented, Wales stands at a crossroads. The nation, rich in culture, history, and resilience, finds itself grappling with internal divisions—political, regional, and ideological—that threaten to dilute its potential and weaken its collective influence.
From the Senedd to the valleys, from Cardiff to Caernarfon, the voices of Wales are many. This diversity is a strength, but without coordination and shared purpose, it risks becoming a cacophony rather than a chorus. The challenges facing Wales—economic disparity, healthcare pressures, educational reform, and the climate crisis—require more than fragmented responses. They demand a unified vision, a common agenda, and a voice that speaks not just for parts of Wales, but for the whole.
The current landscape is marked by competing interests and a lack of cohesion. Local authorities often pull in different directions, political parties prioritize short-term wins over long-term strategy, and communities feel disconnected from decision-making processes. This divisiveness hampers progress and undermines trust.
Wales is a nation of proud communities, rich culture, and deep resilience. But right now, we’re pulling in too many directions. We face real challenges—economic pressures, healthcare strains, and a changing climate. Yet instead of unity, we see division. It’s time for Wales to speak with one voice. Not one party, not one region—but one purpose. We need leadership that listens, communities that collaborate, and a vision that includes everyone. Unity doesn’t mean we all agree—it means we all move forward together. Wales deserves better. Wales deserves one voice.
Plaid Cymru will NEVER buy into this, they are a toxic and they divide us more that bringing us together!!!
The Party of Wales—or the Party of Wedge?
Plaid Cymru claims to speak for Wales. But increasingly, it seems to speak for a Wales divided—by language, by region, by ideology. Beneath the green-and-yellow banner of unity lies a strategy that thrives on fracture.
While Labour stumbles and the Conservatives flail, Plaid positions itself as the principled alternative. Yet its rhetoric often feels less like a bridge and more like a battering ram. “Wales first” sounds noble—until it’s wielded to pit rural against urban, Welsh-speaking against English-speaking, nationalist purity against pragmatic pluralism.
Take their recent pledge to install libraries in every primary school by 2030. On the surface, it’s a wholesome literacy initiative. But critics argue it’s a red herring—an expensive distraction from urgent needs like crumbling school buildings, underfunded special education, and staff shortages. The teaching union NAHT Cymru called it “short-sighted,” warning that it could siphon funds from frontline teaching. A noble idea, perhaps—but one that risks alienating educators already stretched to breaking point.
And then there’s the party’s relentless framing of Wales as a victim—of Westminster, of Labour, of history itself. It’s a narrative that stirs emotion but stifles nuance. Plaid Cymru leader Rhun ap Iorwerth recently declared that “Wales isn’t getting a fair deal” and accused Labour of wasting opportunities. Fair enough—but when every policy failure is cast as proof of colonial neglect, it becomes harder to build consensus across Wales’s diverse communities.
Plaid’s vision of independence is bold, but its tone often feels brittle. Instead of inviting all of Wales into the conversation, it risks alienating those who feel Welsh but not nationalist, progressive but not separatist. The party’s cultural emphasis—rooted in language and heritage—can feel exclusionary to those outside its linguistic fold.
