MR ERIC FATBASTARD PICKLES, MP
My own weight goes up and down, medications and fitness effect it, diabetes, too, and I am two stones over what I like to be and I know that some people struggle, doesn't matter what they eat, they pile it on, other people can eat any old shit and stay slim. It's not fair to criticise people just for beng fat, Heffer though, probably compressed into his suit by an army of servants, like some Asian potentate seem to delight in, flaunt his avoirdupois, wears his jowls and belly like a medal of honour, the fat fuck, as though it signified wealth and status, and lent philosophical, logical weight to his fourth-form rantings-for-money in the Filth-O-Graph, as though babbling, now and again, inexpertly, about Wagner portrayed, or hinted at, an inner svelteness, a clandestine athleticism, when, in fact, he is, in spirit, too, the greasy, self-satisfied, bloated, Goeringesque fuckpig, whom, once seen, is held forever in contempt. Today, he described his fellow fat fuck robbing Tory bastard spiv, Mr Eric Pickles, as Big Eric, the good for fuck all pot calling the good for fuck all kettle good for fuck all; for once, a chuckle from the useless fat bastard's obnoxiously vindictive, contemptible column.
MR SIMON FATBASTARD HEFFER, GOSSIP AND SPIV.
He has an army of admirers, Heffer. Well said, Sirs and Couldn't have put it better myselfers. And they probably couldn't, hundreds of them, cowed by the facile notion that that the lardball is a salty, smartass yet scholarly homme des lettres, when he's just a worthless fat cunt. Ruin. To think that the Filth-O-Graph was once home to Auberon Waugh's graceful, mannerly gadflying and now it peddles Heffer's bloody diarrhoea.
Were it not for his employment by the anti-democratic Barclay twins one wonders where Mr Heffer would earn his daily bucket of lard, there cannot be too many who would pay good money for this infantile drivel, this effete snarling. Big Eric ? Pots and kettles, Big Simon.
"Public services now exist far more for the benefit of those who work in them than those they are supposed to service. They are a socialist government’s means of creating jobs, to the economic detriment of the country."
This, whilst not disputing that there is an element of careerist fatcattery in the public sector - and nowhere more deplorable than in MediaMinster - is rubbish, ridiculous sloganising, unbecoming in what was once a right-wing but more or less scrupulously honest newspaper. Mr Heffer's weekly or bi-weekly assaults on Decency are proof further that Ruin's agents, in the form of Greed and Envy and downright Stupidity, beguile and seduce with tubthumping appeals to a common, benevolent national purpose, one from which they are estranged.
Leaving aside the failure of his grammar and the inelegance of his spluttering prose - mayhap Simon has forgotten, in his eternal affected rage, how to deploy a semi-colon, rendering his second sentence a non-sentence - his endless and tedious diatribe against decent, working people, as opposed to over-gorged, spluttering popinjays like himself, who serve no discernible, worthwhile purpose, may well assist his wealthy masters' interests but they cheapen and tarnish the public discourse, as though MediaMinster had not done enough such. C'mon Fatso, I say, as one Old Edwardian to another, and in the spirit of the piece, have the servants hoist you off the chaise longue and respond; no, didn't think so.
A predictably ardent proselytizer of the questionable and grisly but undoubtedly vengeful blessings of capital punishment, he should take care, Mr Heffer, that he and his, the idle rich and their mouthpiece servants, do not stir things so wickedly that they fetch up in the modern equivalent of the tumbril; windbagging and lardy, he'd only break it, and fall out on his fat arse, bleating, I am far too important for this.
Times are hard, the blowhard demagoguique, here, here and everywhere, might find that his traitorous, splenetic snobbery sees him up against the wall, with the rest of the motherfuckers.
Some of this I posted on his fat blog, I doubt if it'll stay there, probably enrage his angry masturbating expatriot fan club and be moderated, as they call censorship, in the Street of a Thousand Arseholes.