Which comediennes are playing Cherie Blair and Baroness Ashton – they can’t be real!

Okay, I’ll admit that they probably are real - despite giving the impression that they're two of Peter Simple's most exagerrated comic creations - but only because there would have to be too many people in on the joke for it not to have leaked out by now. But if you happened to be a satirist with a loathing of the EU and lefty human rights lawyers (and let’s face it, who, with a functioning brain, doesn’t loathe the EU and lefty human rights lawyers?) you could not have made up two more hilarious characters to ram home your point.

If they both entered the room at the same time, you’d ask one of them to fetch you a cup of tea and hold all calls, while faking a ruptured appendix to avoid having to talk to the other one. Surely they must be characters from a satirical sit-com.

Cherie Blair, like the loud-mouthed fascist she is, has been hectoring women who choose not to go out to work for not being more like her – i.e. an insanely greedy, repellent, humourless, petty, selfish, puffed-up, self-important egomaniac who has used her husband’s career in order to – well, she’s a lawyer, so I’d better leave it there.

It isn’t enough for this modern Lady Macbeth to have done what all prominent lefties always do by ensuring that her kids have all the unfair life-advantages that being the offspring of extremely rich parents can furnish. It isn’t enough that she used the fact that she was married to the Prime Minister of this country to jet around the world pocketing juicy fees for speaking engagements while he was still in office. It’s not enough that she made Tony Blair even more of a laughing stock than he already was by getting him to join her in a New Age birthing ceremony while on holiday in Mexico in 2001 (it involved mud and fruit). It isn’t enough that she seems to spend every spare moment either cramming her enormous maw with freebies or snapping up trinkets on eBay. It’s not enough that she blames the British media’s antipathy towards her on the fact that she has a career, rather than on her rebarbative personality and her penchant for making out like a bandit.

Now, in addition to all to that, this sensationally tawdry person decides to disparage women who weren’t born with her toxic levels of personal ambition and who have decided to look after their own families rather than leave the job to a series of Eastern European teenagers.

Why does this self-obsessed fugly feel so threatened by women who have chosen not to follow her path? One can only assume Mrs Blair wakes up regularly in the middle of the night in a sweat-panic wondering what she’s missed by expending so much energy in the pursuit of wealth and power – and asking herself whether there’s something abnormal about her rather than the non-working mums she professes to despise.

As for “Baroness” Ashton, well, I mean, who is she? Yes, I know she’s the European Union's High Representative of the Union for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy, as well as being Vice-President of the European Commission (the longer the title, the more meaningless the job). But, I repeat who is she? For a start, she’s a Lancashire lass who spent six years working for CND, which effectively means she spent six years working for the evil tyranny that was the Soviet Union against the interests of Western democracy. Good start, girl!

Afterwards, she worked for the Central Council for Education and Training in Social Work (stay awake at the back!). She was Director of Business in the Community working with business to tackle inequality (ah! bless!). She established the Employers’ Forum on Disability (sweet!). She was a Vice President of the National Council for One Parent Families (Aren’t they lovely? Honestly, you could swear they understand every word you say to them!).

Inevitably, she was given a peerage by New Labour and then did a bunch of government jobs too deeply tedious even to list, without bothering to have to get elected or anything grubby like that. She was so compassionate and inclusive that she even managed to bag an award from Stonewall for having made a positive impact on the lives of British LGBT people (I think it's a type of sandwich). Gordon Brown then made her Leader of the House of Lords, where she managed to steer through the Lisbon Treaty (gee, thanks!) and Lord President of the Council. She then leapt aboard the EU gravy train, and is now, essentially, the organisation’s Foreign Secretary. Her fellow Eurocrats think she is bloody useless, which, given that's the opinion of Eurocrats, must mean that she is sensationally bloody useless.

And yet… who is she? Her CV in itself is a comic creation. Who could possibly keep a straight face while holding down a series of such hilarious, pointless non-jobs? She seems to have slipped through a crack in the space-time contuum from a parallel universe where the only way to get ahead is to champion a succession of fashionable victim groups while placing as many obstacles in the way of the businesses whose employees ultimately have to cough up the cash for professional bleeding-heart Lady Bountifuls like Caroline Ashton to distribute amongst the variously afflicted members of the parish. (Come to think of it, Cherie Blair must have taken advantage of the very same crack.)

The vaguely amusing Thick Of It-style video of Baroness Ashton meeting the President of Serbia at the top of this post isn't the real joke – no, the joke is that I’m paying for this  irrelevant woman’s political job out of my taxes – and I can’t remember ever being asked to vote for her. In fact, nobody in this country has ever been asked to vote for her. Britain already has a Foreign Secretary, whom I also pay for, but at least his constituents get the chance to votehim out every four or five years. Besdies, we know he could be off making a lot more money writing books and hosting TV shows and suchlike. I’ve occasionally heard the Ashton woman drearing away on the Today Programme, but, apart from that, her main role seems to be to make embarrassing gaffes in between appearing in meaningless photo calls with other meaningless bureaucrats and occasionally saying meaningless things into a microphone while standing next to someone we’ve never heard of and couldn’t care less about.

In the case of Cherie Blair and Caroline Ashton, the world really would be a much better place if they had decided to stay at home and look after their families – after all, between them they have no less than seven kids and three step-children - and leave the rest of us damn well alone.