Saturday, 3 December 2011

YATES OF ARABIA

'ELLO, 'ELLO, 'ELLO, EFFENDI.  FUCK WITH ME 
AND I'LL GET YOU FIVE HUNDRED LASHES.
I HAVE DONE NOTHING WRONG. AND I'M GOING TO KEEP ON DOING IT IN SAUDI ARABIA, OR WHEREVER THE FUCK IT IS,
ANOTHER WORD AND YOU'RE NICKED, SUNSHINE.
Former Assistant Chief Slag, Mr John Filth of the Yard.

Yates, the man who found no wrong in the Cash for Honours parliament and who sat on several  bin loads of phone-hacking evidence whilst schmoozing with Murdoch's filthiest,  resigned in September, even though he had done nothing wrong - the modern equivalent of bent police workers, sorry, blatantly, outrageously bent police workers,  resigning from a life of crime on "health grounds." And a full pension.

I am going to work for a progressive absolute monarchy, out there in the desert, where Tony Blair is doing such good work for ex-offenders, like himself and Imelda.

The King of Bahrain, a modern, liberal bloodstained bandit fuckpig, has asked me to assist in the whitewashing of his security forces, which have provided and will continue to provide such exemplary human rights practice in law enforcement - they kill anyone who looks at them the wrong way,  rather as did my former force with the  so-called homeless alcoholic newspaper seller, Mr Tomlinson.

I look forward to a long and profitable relationship with His Serene Majesty King Ali Baba, if not with the people who, with Uncle Sam's benevolent assistance, he so brutally represses.

What, pay tax on it?  Do fuck off.

11 comments:

ex sandpitter said...

Ha ha. Lucky bastard. Bahrain Country Club for Friday brunch with bacon and cool guinness. Back to the hotel for a session with a Thai/ Filipina/ Russian whore.
Bahrain is a brilliant place.

lilith said...

Elby was at school with the King of Bahrain ;-)

call me ishmael said...

He probably did all that shit here, mr esp, he was senior in the Met, after all, and even jug-eared plods demand freebies from their local sex workers, perks of the job, or protection racketeering. It's only that thin blue line which protects the rest of us from complete decency. Giod bless the Bahrainis.

And I, Ms lilith, was at Warwick University with Jack Gowon ex-president of what was it? Nigeria? One of those places; although meeting the late Captain Beefheart in the Arts Centre toilets was a more significant event in my life. Dunno about you, but royalty and such, I can take 'em or leave 'em, gimme an extraterrestrial like the Captain, anytime.

Antiquity Liberalism said...

"although meeting the late Captain Beefheart in the Arts Centre toilets was a more significant event in my life."

Holy bloody Moly!

call me ishmael said...

It was great, mr AL, you woulda loved it, the toilets part, anyway.

Edgar said...

Perhaps Mr Antiquity has erroneously applied the descriptor 'late' to the time of the event mentioned, rather than the present?

mongoose said...

Notwithstanding that all coppers are bastards, I had previously thought that Yates of the Yard was a tad more sinned against than sinner, that they shovelled him seventeen piles of steaming whatnot and then let him hang out to dry. This generosity of spirit is, of course, undermined by his latest wheeze of taking the oil-tyrant's dollar. So I may have been wrong all along and in fact he has always been a cheap chancer of the vilest kind.

call me ishmael said...

It takes a big mongoose to admit he was wrong.

He's a Cantabrian, isn't he, adroit at image management, not as obviously venal and grotesque aS many of the senior ranks and better connected to the same people who are still paying-off Tony and Imelda for their service.

In the Beginning was the word and the word was ACAB, is ACAB and shall be ACAB, now and forevermore, wheresoever three of the fuckers are gathered together, there be infamy, vileness and brutality, there be lies,cheating, thievery, torture and extortion. All coppers are bastards, their wives are bastards, their children are bastards, cursed be the name of the copper.

call me ishmael said...

And perhaps, mr edgar, mr Al mocks me, casting himself with my own self description for fear of being thought an Iolanthean manque.

I had meant to spell the phrase antic liberalism, as in the Danish antic disposition and methodical madness and Time's out-of-jointedness but muscle memory in the fingers o'erruled and gainsaid my purpose.

It was, actually, a significant conversation with Beefheart, the snarling,unpredictable avant gardeiste was the gentlest of men, tranquil, infinitely polite and considerate. It was one of a half-dozen magic moments in my life and I consider myself charmed and blessed to have experienced as many as that.

Edgar said...

Oh. I see. It's an odd kind of focus that a certain kind of comment-maker seems to have. It's not as if there wasn't any contentious substance in your writing, Mr I - I don't know if I agree with half of it, myself - but the hecklers always seem to focus on the trivial and the irrelevant.

Antiquity Liberalism said...
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