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The chronicles of Ruin, continued. Call me Ishmael said....intelligence is knowing what to do when you don't know what to do. Anonymous said... When I don't know what to do,I come here. 10 September 2009 22:59
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7 comments:
Preposterous, lard bucket of a self-satisfied twat. 37 miles? The poor lamb. "When my wife was sick..." Horrible, horrible, cheap bastard. We'll need a stout rope for that fucker come the revolution.
Sixty mile round trip to see the sick wife then an eight hour stint in the factory. It`s what people do. And now that oaf is presuming to lecture the rest of us on the need to ' tighten our belts ' ?
After you with the rope, Mr Mongoose. Although I`m thinking we can invent a double gallows with Prescott as a counterweight and they can hang each other, a bit like the Lynton Lynmouth cliff railway.
Eric Pickles
Mr Pickles, the shadow communities secretary and chairman of the Conservative Party, has been an MP for Brentwood and Ongar since 1992.
His office expenses varied from month to month, but one claim remained resolutely the same — £200 in petty cash. Between 2005 and the middle of 2008, his claims all included the same request for cash, all without receipts.
In June 2008, when the fees office said everything over £25 must be accompanied by a receipt, Mr Pickles’s petty cash claims dropped to £20.
Eric Pickles said: “I kept a petty cash box, balancing monthly against receipts and chitties with the cash in the box.
“This was made available for inspection by the fees office upon their request.
“When the rules changed to require all items over £25 to be accounted for individually, my use of petty cash reduced in line with the new rules.”
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/mps-expenses/5384459/MPs-expenses-A-Conservatives-office-essentials-mugs-mints-and-McVities-biscuits.html
It is amazing, the cheek of these pigs, if this fat cunt's wife is ill he needs a second home at my expense, if others' wives are ill they are to be ridiculed as part of the enemy within. Loathsome fat fucker; still, he'll die soon, from pies.
Good grief, how long has it been? Two months and I am sick of the sight of them already.
You were ever the optimist, mr mongoose. Things can only get worse: Major-Blair-Brown-Cleggeron, Reagan-Bush-Clinton-Bush-Obama, each worse than his predecessdor, each made bolder in venality, steeped further in graft, encouraged by the duplicity of those whom they have succeeded. Up against the wall, motherfuckers; it really is the only way, had we but the appetite; that any of the previous intake remains in office after the expenses revelations shows how timid, how malleable we are.
Thank you Mr, Anonymous for the clear evidence you provide that Pickles is a thief. No doubt the globular fucker paid off his monthly slate at the local pie shop with that £200.
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