NINE BELOW ZERO. YOU DON'T NEED A WEATHERMAN TO KNOW WHICH WAY THE WIND BLOWS, A HARD RAIN'S A-GONNA FALL........ TAKE YOUR PICK.

 

 DOWNHILL RACER, GEORGE SPUNKFACE,MP

Skanky Sarah Palin's people, the Eskimos, have variously twenty seven, three hundred and twenty or several thousand words for snow. Our own loathed and detested skanky Chancellor of the Exchequer, George Spunkface, however,  has only one word for the failure of his so-called policies - weather. It's the weather, he bleated, and the weather, it's the bad weather. It's not that I'm a vengeful, hate-filled, poisonous little cocksucker,  whoring and bitching for GlobaUsury Inc, that's not the reason the economy is fucked, it's the weather. And the weather is quite clearly the fault of the party opposite, they had thirteen years to fix the weather and they failed, Mr Tiny Speaker, they failed and they failed and they failed. And now I have to clean up their weathermess. What a cunt.

The analysts and senior economists and advisers are shitting thenselves, trying to do Mr Pangloss on this growth failure, this  obvious, logical, unavoidable and predictable stage of Ruin;  if it was half a per cent the other way they'd be advising us that  sunny uplands beckon, borrow more money and spend it and then borrow some more, even before you've paid the first lot back, and never will, consolidation they call it, freeing-up some equity from your over-priced house; now, blustering and lying, they say Oh Fuck Me, Gullible and Obedient Citizens, nothing to get hung about,  the figures are probably wrong, we can readjust them, when all the information's in, see, we'll make it all better, 'sobvious, you see, what we do is throw lots of people out of work and growth will go up, and in a shrinking global market, where our exportees, like Uncle Sam, are even more fucked than we are, then their not buying our goods will also propel Growth upwards, and the cutung back of public sector projects will also drive Growth in the construction industry, Growth, Growth, Growth,  that's what we're seeing, even though we're not. Only believe. That's all, just believe and we'll all be rich. Or I will, anyway.

 LAY DOWN YOUR WEARY TUNE

Mr Mervyn King, the City's Village Idiot.

Inflation, yes, it'll be two per cent, or five per cent  or twenty-five per cent,

of something or other, what the fuck do I know? 

Two twos are seven,  three sevens are nine, nine sevens are twenty-four.

Households, whined Merv, must now pay the inevitable price of the financial crisis;  households, you understand, not the spiv bankers , who caused it. How I long for someone to stride up to this prat, this piece of shit and punch him in the gob;  he never gets up this way, unfortunately.