Tuesday, 9 November 2010

PARLIAMENTARY LABOUR PARTY IN SUICIDE BID. MORE ON SLIMY PHIL.



"Anybody tells you It's a great personal tragedy for Phil and his family, just punch them hard in the mouth; it'll be alright." from a previous commentary


Before we go anywhere, I would just like to point out that it was Imelda,  below,

 
Her honour Judge Imelda Booth-Blair-Haliburton QC,
famous human rights lawyer, cheap hustler
and bomber of brown babies in their cradles.

who was the first to say what a tragedy it is for Phil's family, she, of course has been near the top of the list for a punch in the mouth these last fifteen years.  Imelda the famous, bombing and torturing human rights lawyer,  is said to be supporting Slimy Phil's application for a judicial review of his treatment, although not, of course, with money. As if. Charity begins at home, in her case, many of them. Barmy  fucked-up Scouse witch.

Anyway, Ed Moribund is on paternity leave, can you believe,  whilst the unelected coalition of public shoolboys makes merry with ordinary people's lives and takes itself off  on a Chinky Junket, hundreds of the fuckers, maybe they'll catch something nasty from the rice, or the Beijing rentboys, maybe the plane'll crash.  Good job there's not a war on, Ed, or a crisis in public funding decisions, eh, useless toothy prick, good for fuck all, and poor old Harriet Soursister has to deal with a fresh  outbreak of poltroonishness among the reptiles, screeching nancyboys and bogbastard fuckpigs, bleating about rights. 

I don't know if Moribund minor fathers his own children or like his brother, buys them in Mexico;  maybe, if he's fertile,  he could have gone round  and slipped the tearful,  'celloing sister in law  one,  kept it in the family, sort of, or  they could have deployed  the savage mobsterbully, Blind Boy Blunkett of LittleLadsRUs,  he'll be dead soon and unable to exercise his paternal rights over, wotsername, the MediaMinster bicycle, Kimberly Quinn, that's it, over her/his little lad,  and Jesus, you'd want to be blind and well dosed up with antibiotics after Simon Hoggart and BlindBoy and maybe, even, her husband, had been prospecting down her mineshaft. 

But if BananaMilliband wants to adopt his family from Amerika, that's his affair and we are in danger, here, of straying into bad taste, and that wouldn't do, talking about parliamentarians - but how Ed reasonably can absent himself at a time like this is a curious matter, indicative, perhaps of his certainty that what imperils us will never imperil him. Cunt. Labour party my arse.

Members of the PLP are said to be mutinous over Harriet shitting for a change in one of their lying faces, bless their poxed-up little heads, their fevered little minds, who the fuck do they think they are? Never mutinous over EyeRack, or ID Cards or unlawful detention or torture, never mutinous about their comrades' shafting the public via the expenses crimes, never mutinous, for instance,  about Tony and Imelda shredding their expenses claims...but mutinous now, that the law intervenes in what have henceforth been unchallengeably their own private matters.  Woolas told dangerous, racist inflammatory lies and the fact that  the objector is a Shiteating hypocrite whose party has always done far worse does not invalidate the finding of the duly constituted hearing;  never mind this being a dangerous precedent, these greedy, shirtlifting, child-molesting fucking bastard war criminals  of all hues, subsidised, pampered, immunised from prosecution, have for far too long gotten away with lies, evasion, dissembling and when those fail the  downright impertinence of failing to answer the question properly put to them (see D.Cameron, G. Brown, A. Blair. J Major et al, every Wednesday, see also, Michael fucking Howard and, oh, all of them ) impudent, smirking filth, every last one of them, mutinous?  SeeHowCleverIAm, PoliticianToMySnottyFingertips, Won'tGetAStraightAnswerOutOfMe. Fuck them. Might have mutinied over Clause Four, but then they would have to have been a Labour Party and they had Newly stopped being that.


Ed appointed Slimy Phil to the  inner sanctum, or the Shadow Cabinet as he calls them,  in full knowledge of the allegations and the proceedings, no wonder he's off, modernly burping baby and changing nappies but those likely to have hitherto been impressed by his NewManliness are despairing as the party goes further down the toilet, as boldly unnamed riffraff shout the odds, fearful, of course, on all sides, that it'll be them, next.

It happens to be Labour but it could easily have been any of them. No use to bleat that Woolas deserves better from Justice, Justice hasn't denied him anything, he can try to clear his name, no-one is stopping him, but a party as badly savaged as the Millibandians should never have let him aboard,  that Soursister, alone, seemingly, has the balls to tnrow him to the sharks -  or a column on the Sun and few TeeVee slots - is a mark of how low, how wretched are the  PinstripePoppy gangsters in Westminster, trading still, on the workers and the poor,  happy to shit in our faces. Mutiny away, lads; Murdoch will be proud of you.

9 comments:

mrs narcolept said...

Just watching news, someone called Brian Outlaw, apparently Our Man in Beijing.

lilith said...

Very well said. Just caught the news on the way home...a mutiny I ask you. They have NO shame.

Edgar said...

We're all outlaws, now, Mrs N. Outlaws governed by criminals. It's not even a case of 'guilty until proven innocent': it is just 'guilty'. There is a good argument that the tsunami of legislation that besets us, growing in power every day, is a desperate attempt by the politico-latchicos to hang onto an ever more-precarious control. As ever, I look for even more base motivations: the criminalisation of the entire population is just their pathetic attempt to drag us down to their level. They know what filth lurks inside them, and they cannot deal adequately with that knowledge until everyone else has been contaminated. I referred to them as 'vermin' in a previous comment. They aren't so intelligent as to deserve the name: more like that which vermin carry: they are the personifications of the disease in humanity, of the selfishness and the apathy, of the greed and the sloth, of the black murder in the heart of anything that slightly tastes of decency.

call me ishmael said...

The other inpertinence is the customary colonisation of the language by the illiterate; mutiny is something the warrior does, the armed forces, a naval crew or fleet of crews, a garrison, these do mutiny, politicians do backstabbing, bribery, blackmail and deceit; politicians do Woolasing.

yardarm said...

Impertinences abound, Mr I. On one hand we have IDS lecturing the unemployed about work; a joker who did such a duff job of leading the Tories they turned to Michael Howard. And the likes of Osborne, the pallid parasite; all of them poncing considerably more than the JSA amount off of the rest of us.

And now Nick Fart has led his rabble of bicycle seat sniffers and pompous windbags into the Coalition of All the Little Pansies its down to Ed ' out of his depth in a damp patch ' Miliband to lead the fight against them.

Cameron must wake up in the night laughing. He probably cancelled a meeting with the Bolivian Assistant Trade Secretary so he could laugh some more. Never mind, Nick`s there to handle meetings like that.

Ragarse said...

Mutiny is either the failure to do one's duty or the failure to obey lawful orders, not necessarily the same thing, of course,Mr Ish.

These cocksucking,arse-licking turds, backbones stiff as a pool of diarrhoea,are strangers not only to truth, as they constantly prove, but also duty, a foreign concept to these shithouses,something you add to the price of cigarettes.

I grew up in the Oldham of the fifties and sixties, in "some of the worst slums in Western Europe", when Saddleworth, then just over the border in Yorkshire was an aspirational middle class suburb and the town had 365 pubs for an 80,000 population.
Hard times in the dieing cotton industry but lovely warm, friendly people - and here 40 years later their reward is to be represented by Phil Woolass, a half witted cretinous fuckwit, whose only distinction in life is to be indescribable by any word other than cunt.This fucker wouldn't have been let through the doors of the Dr Syntax on a Friday night in the sixties. Fuck him and the horse he roe in on.

mongoose said...

Dead man walking. Horrible, horrible little sod. That he staggers on is testimony enough to the calibre of the man.

call me ishmael said...

And to those who support him, supporting, of course, their rotten selves. If the notionally ruling cabal had any guts they would throw them all out, the Woolasites.

Sorry. Can't stop, baby needs changing.

jgm2 said...

What's with the purple wrist-band? Was he on an all-you-can-thieve holiday?

Loving the thought he might be rendered bankrupt in his desperate attempt to stay onboard HMS HoC. Shades of 'trusty sword of truth' from the cunt.