Labour MPs Champion Open Borders, Then Ask Home Office How Long It Takes to Deport an Ex
Five warning signs the personal became unexpectedly political
The loudest voice in the Commons demanding “compassionate immigration reform” was later seen googling “Home Office hotline for emotional visa violations.”
Someone wore a badge reading “Refugees Welcome” and later tried to invoice their ex for overstaying their emotional welcome by approximately nine months.
A party member who argued passionately for open borders was overheard asking if there’s a fast-track deportation service for former partners who still use their Netflix password.
Half the Shadow Cabinet believes in freedom of movement, but none of them want their ex moving freely back into their messages at 11:47 p.m.
The party conference voted unanimously against hostile environment policies, then three MPs quietly asked if there’s a hostile environment policy for ex-boyfriends who keep “just popping round.”
Dateline: Westminster, Where Principles Meet Reality Over Lukewarm Tea
Tuesday’s Labour Party immigration forum began as these events typically do: with thoughtful speeches, strong principles, and the assumption that immigration policy operates in a realm entirely separate from one’s personal romantic disasters. The tone was progressive. The biscuits were fairly traded. The commitment to human rights was absolute.
Party members filled the hall discussing pathways to citizenship, family reunification, and a fairer system for all. It was a chorus of compassion conducted by people who had never tried to remove a former romantic partner from a joint gym membership.
By mid-afternoon tea break, a different issue emerged. Not the points-based system. Not Brexit consequences. Dmitri.
Dmitri, according to multiple witnesses and one very detailed WhatsApp group, is an ex-boyfriend who continues to appear at Labour social events like a recurring policy amendment nobody voted for. His former partner, a backbench MP who requested anonymity but provided a 20-minute testimony, explained: “I oppose the hostile environment categorically. But if there were a humane, expedited emotional repatriation service with proper appeals process and legal representation, I would consider submitting the paperwork.”
Dr. Fiona Hartwell-Smythe, senior lecturer in Political Psychology at the LSE and author of Borders Are Social Constructs Until They’re Personal Boundaries, offered scholarly perspective. “What we’re observing,” she noted while stirring her Earl Grey, “is textbook cognitive dissonance. Politicians support immigration in abstract policy debates but rediscover enforcement when Dmitri still has their Waitrose card.”
She adjusted her reading glasses with the confidence of someone who has published seventeen papers on this exact phenomenon.
The Department for Romantic Affairs and Citizenship
As speeches continued in the main hall, several MPs quietly congregated in a side room to form what attendees described as “an informal working group on removing specific individuals from one’s personal territory.”
One councillor admitted, “I don’t believe in forced removal. I simply think my ex should be gently relocated to another constituency by Friday, ideally with a one-way rail ticket and a signed agreement acknowledging emotional closure.”
A parliamentary researcher named Gemma, who has observed every party conference since 2015, shook her head knowingly. “Every immigration debate ends the same way. First they want to abolish the Home Office. Then they want the Home Office to remove someone who won’t stop texting about ‘unfinished business.'”
Survey Results: The Westminster Paradox
A clipboard materialized. An impromptu survey was conducted.
Findings from the suspiciously official-sounding Institute for Parliamentary Contradictions revealed:
68.3 percent oppose deportation in all circumstances. 81.7 percent support immediate removal of an ex who still appears in their Spotify family plan. 94.2 percent agree “Dmitri should be subject to a 500-metre exclusion zone, enforced by parliamentary security.”
Cause and effect remains unbeaten. When ideology meets ex-partners, ideology typically catches the last train to nowhere.
Freedom of Movement Is Sacred Until Dmitri Moves Into Your Mentions
Labour’s immigration policy took a philosophical hit when an MP’s phone buzzed with a notification that Dmitri had commented on a three-year-old Instagram post from Glastonbury. This reopened what legal experts call “a closed emotional file.”
Speeches paused. Tea went cold. Several attendees stared into the middle distance like survivors of a relationship that involved a shared allotment and matching Le Creuset.
Dr. Hartwell-Smythe returned to the podium. “Restorative justice functions admirably in community mediation contexts. It becomes rather more complex when the harm involves Dmitri tagging you in a memory from that weekend in Cornwall.”
One party member was overheard explaining, “I believe in open borders intellectually, but emotionally I operate like a medieval fortress with a moat, drawbridge, and a very suspicious guard named Gerald.”
The metaphor landed with the weight of lived experience.
No Borders, No Nations, Except Around My iPlayer Account
Later in the afternoon session, a councillor holding a placard reading No Human Is Illegal asked colleagues how to legally prevent a former partner from accessing her BBC iPlayer account.
“Is there a non-molestation order for vibes,” she enquired.
A trainee solicitor replied, “Technically yes, it’s called changing your password.”
The group nodded with the solemnity of people rediscovering basic digital hygiene.
An anonymous staffer from a relationship advice podcast, speaking under condition of parliamentary privilege, added, “We champion compassion. But if Dmitri still has your login credentials, you’re effectively funding an emotional occupation.”
The room murmured agreement whilst reaching for more digestives.
Abolish the Home Office, But Please Process Dmitri’s Paperwork First
One MP clarified her position to journalists outside. “I oppose the Home Office’s deportation apparatus on principle. In practice, Dmitri requires immediate relocation to another time zone, preferably one with limited mobile coverage and no direct flights back.”
Another added, “I don’t support detention centres. I simply want his vintage band t-shirts held in indefinite custody pending a tribunal.”
Political commentator Nigel Forthright, who broadcasts from his shed and calls it investigative journalism, offered analysis. “They don’t oppose enforcement. They oppose other people’s enforcement. It’s not ‘Abolish the Home Office.’ It’s ‘Privatise the Home Office for Personal Romantic Grievances.'”
He sipped instant coffee like a man sustained entirely by scepticism and Ring Light sales.
Love Transcends Borders, Except the One Marked “Do Not Cross, Dmitri”
The immigration forum reached its emotional crescendo when a speaker declared, “Love knows no borders.”
From the back of the hall, someone shouted, “Except Dmitri.”
Applause erupted. Cross-party unity was achieved.
A fresh poll from the Centre for Highly Specific Political Feelings reported that whilst 86 percent of Labour members believe in borderless solidarity, 100 percent believe Dmitri should stop “just checking in to see how you’re doing.”
This is the paradox of contemporary progressive politics. Grand principles occupy the moral high ground. Ex-partners occupy your WhatsApp at inappropriate hours.
Restorative Justice Collapses When He Suggests “Staying Mates”
Workshop sessions promoted dialogue, empathy, and community-based solutions. That is, until someone mentioned an ex who proposed “staying mates.”
The response was immediate and unanimous.
“That’s a violation of the Geneva Convention,” one delegate declared.
Dr. Hartwell-Smythe nodded gravely. “Our research demonstrates that forgiveness rates plummet dramatically when the offending party still wants to borrow your emotional Hoover.”
A Hotline for Expired Visas With Feelings
By evening, four MPs were actively searching for a helpline to report an ex who “keeps reappearing like an expired visa with attachment issues.”
Volunteers offered tea, affirmations, and counselling resources, alongside shared recognition that whilst borders may be artificial constructs, emotional trespassing is devastatingly real.
Gemma the parliamentary researcher closed her notebook and summarised the forum. “They don’t oppose deportation. They oppose everyone’s deportation except one very specific deportation. That’s not immigration policy. That’s relationship admin.”
What the Funny People Are Saying
“I support open borders. Just not for my ex’s access to my Spotify Wrapped data,” said Jimmy Carr.
“Nothing makes you reconsider immigration policy like discovering your ex is dating someone with a villa in Tuscany,” said Ricky Gervais.
“They don’t want the Home Office. They want Amazon Prime for emotional removals—next-day delivery, no questions asked,” said Sarah Millican.
“If love has no borders, explain blocking and also the M25,” said David Mitchell.
“Restorative justice is brilliant until someone wants to restore themselves into your Sunday roast plans,” said Katherine Ryan.
The Part Nobody Wants to Discuss Over Tea
Complex immigration systems are difficult. So are complicated breakups. Principles sound magnificent in conference halls. Boundaries prove harder to maintain when someone still knows your mother’s maiden name and your childhood dog’s name.
The truth humming beneath this satire is straightforward. Humans desire freedom for humanity and consequences for Dmitri. We envision a world without borders, whilst keeping spare documentation labelled “Emergency Use Only.”
Ultimately, the forum achieved what most political gatherings achieve. It brought people together, raised essential questions, and reminded everyone that whilst immigration policy shapes nations, ex-partners shape political opinions considerably faster.
Because nothing radicalises a Labour MP in favour of border enforcement quite like spotting Dmitri at the constituency office bring-and-share.
This satirical report is presented for humour and commentary. This story is entirely a human collaboration between two sentient beings, the world’s oldest tenured professor and a philosophy major turned dairy farmer. Auf Wiedersehen, amigo!
Carys Evans is a prolific satirical journalist and comedy writer with a strong track record of published work. Her humour is analytical, socially aware, and shaped by both academic insight and London’s vibrant creative networks. Carys often tackles media narratives, cultural trends, and institutional quirks with sharp wit and structured argument.
Her authority is reinforced through volume, consistency, and reader engagement, while her expertise lies in combining research with accessible humour. Trustworthiness is demonstrated by clear labelling of satire and an ethical approach that values accuracy and context.
Carys’s work supports EEAT compliance by offering informed satire that entertains while respecting readers’ trust.
