NO PEACE IN OUR TIME.
FIELD MARSHAL CALLHIMDAVE RALLIES THE TROOPS
I have here, in my hand, a piece of paper signed by both Mr Gimp and myself which says I am in charge until we can't stand each other any longer, or we are removed by a civil power (the people).
This means that I am in charge of you, just like a proper prime minister, which, of course, I am not. Now you might think that if I can't win an election after thirteen years of communism that I'm pretty crap and certainly shouldn't be in charge of you lot but, and lets be perfectly clear about this, it's my turn. I went to Eton and Oxford, I worked for Michael Howard and I beat the oik, Davies, for the leadership of this great Coalition Party, so that makes me the one in charge. Until Christmas, anyway.
And I have decided to make everyone at home unemployed, or at least all those who voted for the communists, and free-up all the money so's you can have whatever you want, no, honestly, porn, MarsBars, phones, boots, bullets, Wossat? Come home? Oh, no, not until the people are on the streets. And then you might be called on again, to fight the enemy within; there's enough of them, after all, nearly sixty million. And that's not counting the wogs, Sorry, lance corporal Sambo, only joking, thought I was a Tory for a moment, don't mean you, course not, salt of the Earth, your kind, black or white, just as long as you jump to it when you're told.
3 comments:
You would think he would have chosen to wear something other than a black shirt.
FascistMan at M&S, innit, mrs n, probably chosen by 'Er Indoors. Maybe he'll make the trains run on time, too.
Here in the Soft South, Mr Ishmael, black shirts are once again trendy. And no socks. It must be summer because old men are prancing about in boating shoes and no socks, their varicose veins and lumpy ancient feet frightening the children and appalling the womenfolk in equal measure.
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