Wednesday, 20 July 2016


This is the Six o'clock  news from the PBC. And I'm Huw Welshman. Good evening, look you. And in breaking news,  our current unelected prime minister, Mrs Askey, has announced the appointment to the Foreign Office of young parent, Lady Sir Elton John, music lovers will be disappointed but the cheery, former cocaine-addicted pianist's role will not be in govament to perform his three songs over and over again, for decades - the slow one, the mid-tempo one and the  fast one - but instead will be engaged in supporting the head of  Mr Askey's foreign service,  Mr BoJo, as he travels the world apologising for his history of insulting foreign leaders, but  only in the spirit of a high-spirited public school fourth former, least said, soonest mended, what, jolly good show.   No...sorry....wossat?   Not Sir Elton?  Some other old queen?   Right, gottit. Yes. On-air correction?  Right.

  Sorry,  viewers 
- and apologies, too, to Sir Reg, who's probably, as we speak,  dressing his much sought-after, expensively-purchased designer children.  


No, it's not to be Sir Reg, at the foreign office,  although I understand that he does stand ready to re-write and re-record his tuneless, I mean timeless classic, Candle Up The Arse, on behalf of either the EuroLeavers or the EuroQuitters.  You can just hear it, can't you, viewers, Goodbye, Donald Tusk, though I never knew you at all......and so on, I'm sure Sir Reg would do justice to the topic of a misguided nation being allowed to vote on a subject most of them didn't understand.  Although I believe, being something of a musicologist myself,


 isn't it, look you,  that SIr Reg doesn't actually write the words to his timeless classics, things like Benny and the Jets and.......some other tunes, too; no, he has a lyricist, writes them for him, and then all Sir Reg has to do is decide whether to use his slow, mid-tempo or fast arrangement, and of course, what to wear, which is where  his wife, David, comes in, she handles  that sort of thing.....Is she his wife or is she his husband, fucked if I know. Wossat? 

 Both husbands?  

Both of them are husbands? 

 Fuck me sideways, bach, how does that work?  No. no, never mind, I don't wanna know. Y'know, viewers,  when I was a cub reporter on the Merthyr Tydfil Weekly Herald - which is where I learned everything I know about journalism -  if I ever heard about that sort of carry-on, y'know, two blokes, being each others husbands, like, isn't it, it was in the local magistrates' court, where the offenders, as they then were, were being committed to the Assizes.  Wossat? Yes, for hanging, I expect.

 But we've moved-on some way since then and if two blokes want to buy  a bunch of children off  some poor third world bitch, set-up home together and then insist that they're quite normal, just like Mr and Mrs Jones, in fact not only normal but better than normal - yes, that is the word, abnormal -  I mean, nobody back then would've believed a word of it. Progress, y'see, something in which all the NancyBoys at the PBC have played such a part. I say NancyBoys but what we mean, here at the Corporation, is Trannies....wossat?  No, no, very different to Sir Reg and his Mrs or Mr. 

No, Trannies is where a man  says he's a woman and you have to agree with him, on pain of being exiled to Northern, where they shouldn't be allowed to vote, although I understand there's more than  a few Trannies up there, too.  Over  now to the sport, with Claire Balding, wresting some babes to the ground  and then to that hideously smug quiz show, QI,  is it,  with Sandi Tuskface, 

cackling at her own dismal jokes.  
But at least she's not a Tranny. 
At least I don't think she is.  

I never did get that QI, viewers, did you? 

Stevie and his husband.
Just an opportunity for Sir Steven Fag to show-off to a bunch of wankers.......well, come on, Phil  Jupitus? 

The man's a cunt, take it from me.  Bill Bailey?  

He stopped being funny fifteen years ago. once he'd played all his instruments.  Jo Brand?  Do me a fucking favour, isn't it, look you. The KnobJoke Queen, isn't she, cerainly alternative, a sneery,  dishevelled,  fat old lady telling knobjokes. 


Still, mighta been worse than Sandi, on QI, mighta been that  dreadful Sue Perkins, off the cake show, the one with that old corpsey confectioner.


yes, her  with all the nightmare make-up on. 
Christ Al-fucking-mighty, if she doesn't give you the horrors then  nothing will, isn't it, look you.

But no, it's not Lady Sir Elton going to the Foreign Office, or Foreign and Commonwealth Office, I should say, so's not to offend all those dusky folks who we'll need to come here and do vital nannying jobs for rich slags.
  I mean, why should rich and successful Londoners raise their own children, when they can get Polish and Bulgarian birds to do it for a pittance, and a room in the attic? 
But leaving that aside - the inconvenience caused to wealth creators by poor, angry people having a vote - the big appointments continue to come from Mrs Askey's dressing room and the one about which there can now be no confusion is that of a distinguished  Tory public servant, to whom, unlike Mr Corbyn, absolutely no scandal attaches.

Here's the new appointee, talking to my colleagues, Ian Hislop and Paul Merton.  yes, I know, viewers, talk about a job for life with the PBC, that show's been going for - what is it -   twenty-six fucking years; that smirking little fat fuck, Hislop, and Paul Merton doing his absurdist schtick, twenty-six fucking years of it, I mean, viewers, how can they call this satire, after twenty-six years? It's for dribbling old people, stinking of piss, and all they want is something familiar. to make them feel secure for a moment or two.  
If you ask me they're fucking bone idle, upstairs, at the PBC.  Marcus Bogstick, Steve Punt and Hugh Dennis, and HIGNFYfor fuck's sake, and that't the PBC's satire. Oh, I was forgetting, I think that Sue Perkins has her guests baking satirical chocolate eclairs, 

her and that big Scouse fairy, the one with the goatee;  how the fuck did the PBC come to this pass?

Anyway, enough of me. And the pretend news. Here's another one of Mrs Askey's Top team.  Satire?  Alan Duncan? Alan fucking Duncan? In government again? You're having what the young people call a fucking laugh, isn't it, look you?

 Hello playmates.

Unavoidably, I saw a few minutes of Prime Ministers Questions; no,  it was just a few dreadful seconds, and I swear, that Mrs Askey, she's really David Flashman, in drag. Poison.


SG said...

Repulsive isn't it, look you, Mr I? Fuck knows how you manage to satirise this shit... how do you parody, parody? But you do. The spectacle, on the evening news, of Mrs Askey and Rosa Klebb walking in step along the red carpet towards the Reich Chancellery with the Euro- soldier slow marching behind was pure cabaret Actually I'm beginning to warm to this stuff. Can't wait for coverage of Mrs Askey's visit to the Elysee Palace. As an optimist I think I shall re- read Voltaire's 'Candide' by way of preparation.

call me ishmael said...

Duncan is rolling in money, yet still stole from us, and thought it hilarious, and now he's back; Fox stole from us and netrayed us to some US KKK think-tank and was outraged by the press reporting his lover-on-the-books, Werrity, and now he's back, and there, right-before-your-very-eyes is the Government of National Unity, both parties ganging-up on the only popular party leader in the country. I could only stomach a second or two of Mrs Askey burbling about Two Women, and Angela appreciatively sniffing her fart, and I had to switch-off. I have to rely on people here, for an Update from the Sickbag. The only thing I have seen of integrity was Jon Sox, in the States, again, even though we pay for C4's US correspondent, already, getting a serious dose of reality from one of Trumop's more cerebral policy advisors. I thought the useless, pamopered bastard was going to hang himself with his necktie, some smart fucker rattling his faux-liberal cage. I do loathe Trump, having seen his behaviour - in conjunction with the FatMan, Salmond - towards ordinary Aberdonians but compared with the Clintons he's a fucking saint. It's not that I have any sympathy for the Repuiblicans, I fucking hate them butthe Democrats have become, like Blairish Labour, the party of Organised Crime.

Optimistically, I think Brexit, whether enacted or not, will see the end of the EU, as other states revolt, and that it has also bouyed-up the Trumpsters, made fools of Obama and his chums; doesn't, however, sharpen my appetite for Mrs Askey and her troupe of moral acrobats. As you say I say, fucking repulsive, isn't it, look you, mr sg.

mongoose said...

Although, it has to said that she dismembered Corbyn and left him in bits all over the floor. It is part of his charm, of course it is, that he is crap at politics. He is like some 1940's Stalin hag, having his brain ruined by his dad's not noticing that things had moved on a bit from Spain. He supports and admires anything that isn't. They fuck you up, I'm told, your mum and dad.

Mr Askey's lassie is a nutter that whichever Bronte it was would have kept in an attic. But she is good, you know. Fuck me, it is going to be a terrible slaughter. And although parallels are easy and often lazy, I was sure today that I had lived this before - Maggie tearing great hunks off poor old Michael Foot as he tried to philosophise disgrace. Not long after I voted Labour in the Fulham by-election, and look how well that turned out.

First as tragedy, now as farce.

Mike said...

The Duncan appointment makes no sense to me.

Boris needs a 2IC to keep him prepared and briefed, and who will direct the staff doing all the detailed stuff. Duncan isn't that person. Apart from the baggage he brings, he will want to be in the limelight as well. A pantomime dame.

I'm no fan of May, but from afar I have to say she's surpassing my (albeit low) expectations. OK she hasn't yet delivered, and has yet to step in the inevitable shit lurking on the boulevard of politics, but she looks a big improvement on lazy old Dave.

call me ishmael said...

I do believe, mr mongoose and mr mike, that people are tired of dismemberments, be they of expectations, wages, jobs, services, lives or Jeremy Corbyn, yesterday's performance was odious showbusiness, to excite people like Andrew Neil, scum like that, but will have enraged the nation, the real nation, outside MediaMinster, she is an ageing horror show, Mrs Askey, her time treading the boards very limited.

That is absolutely right, about Duncan, another crumbly horror show, maybe she thinks him prettier and more feminine than herself, not difficult, I know, and that he might bring the sparkle, glamour and zing which she was born without. Lest we forget, the last clergyman's spawn to infest Number Ten was the Moral Compasseer, himself, Mr Gordon Snot; it is, therefore, an antecedent of which we should be careful and a comparison which MediaMinster has been too lazy to make. Methodist grocers, Godlessheathenbastard Presbyterian Kirksters and Oxfordhire Anglican vicars; fuck me, Jesus, Whisky Maggie, Snotty and now Mrs Askey, such verminous issue.

In short, therefore, mes amis, I do not think she is good, she is personally repellent and politically shallow; the honeymoon coach has left,in fact never calls here anymore and people will swiftly sicken of her tacky old dominatrix schtick, and when, I wonder, is MediaMinster going to tackle her appalling incompetence in the matter of immigrants and border controls and, well, everything else? Not, I guess, until the Blairish have left Labour to join her, formally, and she faces an alliance of People'sLabour and the Tribesmen.

In a way I do find this all a bit heartening, vindicating, we said at the time of the IndyRef that a left-wing threat would see the formation of the Government of National Unity, turns out that the crucial impetus was not Gnasher but Corbyn, who, whatever his failings, has, like Mr Poundland, drawn back Vice's's veil. Expenses, Rotherham, Austerity, Brexit, Iraq, Trident and now their applause for old thigh-boots Tracey; the Blairish will be forever Unforgiven.

Mike said...

Mr I: I can't disagree with your analysis. But I'm looking for a ray of hope, a light in the tunnel; I'm still demob happy, post-Brexit

I'm old enough - I should know better.

I'm watching Comrade Corbyn with increasing interest. He may have bigger balls than Trump.

call me ishmael said...

Even if he was as Stalinist, say, as our new best friend, Johnny Turk the Pistol Whipper, which he isn't, Corbyn deserves recognition for exposing the corruption of the Blairish and of those politicians who foolishly think that we still live in a time when some cunt of a newspaper editor can pull the wool over our eyes. People have never been so well, so self-informed and with every angry wriggle Villainy's Worm becomes more exposed. Angela Eagle, with her dowdy ambition is the laughing stock of anyone who looks at her for a moment; Owen Who, a fucking sermonising half-wit, the keeper of Freedom's flame. I';m just dying for someone to punch him in his stupid mouth, the whole farce of people calling for Unity whilst fighting it tooth and nail has become light entertainment; Corbyn, perhaps involuntarily has shone a light. Seventeen million won't be pistol-whipped and if the Blairish want to remain on the gravy train they need to swiftly join Mrs Askey and stand as Tories, even then, they'll be laughed out of the polling stations.

Did you manage to see John Sox getting an intellectual thrashing from one of Trump's men? It was on C4's News, last evening, form Colorado, the start of the rout. It is owrth searching-out; c alm, considered, rigourous and radical conservatism; not my cup of tea, but persuasively rendered. President Trousers will look increasingly threadbare and moth-eaten in tne face of that stuff. Organised Crime, wotsitlike, eh? I hope her arse falls out and dogs chew the spillage.

mongoose said...

Of course, it was odious. It was something out of a circus. She has the comic timing of a table-lamp, and the pulling of silly faces will have to stop. "Remind him of anyone?" Good grief, my cat is but learning the language even now but he would have delivered that line better. But it was shockingly effective and she will get better and looser at all that panto delivery in time. Jeremy looked like he was having a whale of a time. Nothing better than Mad Maggie II to hate to cheer up the hopeless lost. Tom Watson looked like a man who has just missed the last bus and knows it. A long cold, walk home in the dark of the February snow for Tom.

But politically, she is beyond reach now. Beyond reach of these pygmies anyway. Until damaged by events we cannot foresee. Labour is fucked for 2020. (They have been almost since election day last, true, but this is getting serious now.) The SNP can only go down. Nicola is looking tetchy. She can stamp her wee foot if she likes but nowt is going to happen with the oil industry in ashes. (I have remembered the Dogshooters this time but there is no need to discuss them.) The timing of Article 50, the package, and the subsequent delivery of victorious repatriated powers and changes looks to me like it has "Tory landslide" written on the side of it. Yeck, Theresa just has to pop over the Pond and tickle President Donald Reagan under the chin and we'll be set up for a decade and a half Tory Reich. Deja vu all over again, as the man said. We might even get our very own SDP moment.

Watch out BTW for the execution of Mark Carney one day soon. While the City kiddies are in Cornwall out of their skulls? Maybe then scores will be settled. Perhaps he'll be allowed a few months, if he remains silent, but I doubt it. Best to kill him now while the knife is sharp.

call me ishmael said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
call me ishmael said...

In ordinary times, mr mongoose, I would concede all of those points but times are extraordinary; consider: there may be a disputed election result, Stateside; should the Clintons win then the Trumpers are quite entitled to query the legitimacy of their funding, and such a protest would actually be far more legitimate than Gnasher's Project Fear lament, which was just patronising and de4sperate, and more legitimate than the behaviour of the Regrexiteers, which is just impudent an fascistic.

Even one more fatal terror attack on the Frogs will finally see them on the streets and about time, too, unseating their owm government and further destabilising the EU as well as inspiring Leave movements in other countries.

Global protest could and should swell, regarding Mr Ali bin PistolWhipper; from what I have read on the cyber toilet wall, most are contemptuos of press and politicans who say that we should support him.

Syria has gone quiet, it seems, but anything could happen there, anything could happen in the South China Sea, also, should turmoil grip Uncle Sam, post-November.

Neither BoJo - who, we learn, has heroically taken a £300,000 pay cut, from the Filth-O-Graph, the better to serve the nation, the rotten fucking bastard - nor Dopey Phil or Mrs Askey are, in their wildest bout of self-importance, up to any of these challenges, should they arise.

I believe that, sa you put it, events may damager her fatally. There is also the quelling of any grassroots Tory protest at a Remainer being shooed-in, what happened to that, will it re-emerge, sooner rather than later?

Gnasher, it is true, is a busted flush, the Trident vote, however, may yet give her and her tribesmen some legs, although more pragmatic Scots will be glad that the jobs are remaining, they don't, here in the home of the Enlightenment, give a fuck about the ethics of mass destruction.

Carney, you are probably right, he's one of the Bukkake Boys, isn't he, hand-picked by JunkyGeorge.

I do think, however, that Brexit, the economy and MediaMinster are the very least of Mrs Askey's troubles, and that as larger crises present themselves her clunking, thigh-booted, matronly despatch box froth will be blown off the national pint. She's a fucking monster, always was, if she wasn't a Tory politician she'd probably be a Moors Murderer. Parliament, you see, does have some uses, sanctuary for the mutants.

mongoose said...

And boundary changes too! I read that they are due to turn up in 2017. I am unsure as to the mechanism for implementing them in the field. They couldn't really be done for a by-election. It would have to be for the full monty. And the earliest Theresa would look at a General Election would be 2018, say. And that fits with Article 50 early next year and a "renewed mandate from the people" with the new boundaries will be the Tories with a majority of near 100. Massacre territory. UKIP might yet rebrand itself as something else but I cannot see that there is a future if Brexit occurs. The attitudes and desires will have to go somewhere but Jez will have to work hard to get those voters back in the fold.

Nope. It's Theresa's to lose in 2025. Fuck me. All but ten more years at least. If Corbyn does burn it right down to the ground right now, there just might be a chance to get something in place for then. Best start tomorrow though.

Mike said...

If May delivers on Brexit, then I think the Tories will be in power for the rest of my natural. If she cocks it up, then UKIP will make big inroads.

Of course, events, dear boy, will more than likely intervene - a full on financial crisis is more than likely, and the EU will implode, just for starters.

Bungalow Bill said...

She's one of political life's hiders and swervers, Tracey, despite her reputation for fronting up. She disappeared latterly at the HO and during the Referendum and I think she's an accidental PM, installed to prevent the rise of the unthinkables. She will indeed flounder and evaporate, along with her cabinet of all the talentless, as the difficult business of governing subverts her party act. You can smell the incompetence-in-waiting.

As usual the Tories will become their own best and most vicious opposition and I give our present dispensation a 5 year maximum. I agree that the rest look dead or dying; fucking idiot though he is, however, do we rule out the other Miliband retard from a return, borne aloft perhaps on Hillary Trouser's clouds of glory?

call me ishmael said...

Well, mr mongoose, I voted for Brexit but only because Filth told me not to, and I guess that many of those who voted to Leave were equally exasperated, and for the same reasin I would now vote UKIP or anyone else from the Outside if there was not a Corbyn option, just for contrariness; Mrs Askey won't last ten years in this political world, she is too old and too unwell - home secretary means what it says and she couldn't even manage that very well, running around the world sniffing the farts of every Tom, Dick and Ahmed will quickly wipe her out, equally, no-one knows how she will react to her first crisis and she may quickly find herself out of her depth and unsupported. I don't think she will be in the house of commons in 2025.

The boundaries, well, I don't understand that - you could change them every five minutes, couldn't you, to reflect some demographic or other, seems outrageous. That's not to say the the Topries won't do it, but it will discredit them further, however it's framed.

call me ishmael said...

I usopect she will cock it up, mr mike, and that UKIP will do very well as a result, I expect them to do very well, anyway, at the next general election; whoever the leadership is, it can say it enabled the biggest electorla event in history, and won it.

call me ishmael said...

I agree with most of that, mr bungalow bill, she will flounder and fail and the Tory rift re-emerge.

Amongst the newly-empowered/enraged David Miliband is rightly seen as scum, Uncle Sam's teaboy, a torturer, a liar and a coward and his desertion of his seat and his association with President Trousers damns him further. See? It's not all bad news. There is the realest-in-a-long-time groundswell of public opinion in favour of what used to be called socialist policies. I don't care what it's called, as long as we take back into public management those national assets sold-off by Maggie and her spivs. Flogging the Family Silver, Harold McMillan called it, and if Jeremy Corbyn has to burn-down, as mr mnongoose suggests, the ruins of the Labour party in order to further that aim then that's fine by me.

I just watched, for a moment or two, on a stumbled-upon This Week cartoon show, Liz Somebody, articulating her view of how the global economy should be re-organised to better represent the aspirations of her constituents, and I envisaged billions of Chinese, watching her, rapt, Hokay, now we do thing diffahent, Engrish lady say so, muss be true. These people, they are such pygmies, aren't they, fucking shit-for-brains nincompoops.

Mike said...

I'm sitting here waiting for The Donald to take the stage and give his speech. With a large brandy nearby, just in case. I can't stand the USofA, but this is one election I'm truly looking forward to; he will pile a mountain of shit on Hillary. What odds I wonder on him getting shot during the campaign?

mongoose said...

I know that it is upsetting, Mr Ishmael, but the world, even a Tory one, must be looked at as it is rather than as we would like it to be. UKIP will never have even ten seats in the HoC. I doubt that they will ever win more than one or two properly. It just doesn't work, and it will likely never work now. The only way they can get a seat is for Labour to vapourise, vanish. And much as we hope that they will and be reborn a liberal Labour re-aligned to the 21st Century - well, it won't happen. Jez is not the man to deliver it.

Likewise Theresa's health is beyond my experience or understanding but she is what she is - more than hale and hearty, and agile, a loon, yes, but a woman not to be trifled with in a sub-Maggie sort of way. Churchill had been pissed and shambling for decades before he took on her burdens, and under somewhat weightier circumstances. Theresa is nobody's fool, I suspect, but we will see what we will see.

It is helpful - at least, I have always thought it helps, if only to avoid disappointment - to not put a single ounce of emotional spend into any of those political fuckers. They are all pigs. You may want disaster to happen to them en block but it doesn't happen. Even to the Tories, much as they richly deserve it.

The real question that should be on our lips is why is all the money worth nothing? If the time-value of money was actually even a very low amount, surely a government could borrow now at that low rate to build Keynesian stuff and to pay off its more expensive debt. (Perhaps that is what is happening and all the governments are recycling all the dosh to destroy their own debt, thus starving the rest of the economic machine. It does not help that the notion of a net negative interest rate make my head hurt.) That this borrowing and lending is not happening in the real world, or not very much, must mean that actually money in use - and not just Greece's - actually money on the street anywhere isn't actually worth anything - anything measurable anyway. And that will be a worldwide musical chairs show stopper, when the penny drops, as it were.

Mike said...

If you didn't watch the Trump speech, don't bother. Incoherent bollox. A cross between Mussolini and Hitler but without the panache and substance. The West is truly fucked.

yardarm said...

Just to add to what Mr Mongoose said; we`re still in late 2008, the Great Tits Up economically and financially speaking. A stasis field using voodoo shit like Magic Money, ' austerity ', low interest rates erected in a panic terror by governments and central bankers to protect themselves from the consequences of permitting the Money Riot from the mid 80`s onwards.

They who paid and are still paying the price are us Joe Soaps, copiously shat on by global finance and its sock puppets in Westminster and Whitehall. They who benefitted are the dosh jugglers, financial terrorists, suit clerks, grease grubbers, parasitical chair polishers, office noddies and shirt and tie bastards in the City and its parasitical organs.

In October 2008 there was a real possibility a dystopian science fiction, of all financial terrorist cells, i.e. banks, going bankrupt at the same time and of money vanishing. No doubt the Civil Contingencies Act would have swung into force and, as discussed here many times, the Golden People would have laagered the wagons against we consumer suspects.

That is still a very real prospect. Mrs Askey`s government is filled with City Quislings and bumboys, not least herself and Mr Askey. They and Goldman Sachs runt Carney will know what to do when the time comes and it will dwarf Brexit and Islamapeadoheadchopperstate when it does. A perfect spark in the tinderbox you mentioned down then road, Mr Ishmael. A bit like Erdogan`s black flag coup in Turkey.

call me ishmael said...

Churchill's premiership, mr mongoose, was in another lifetime, one of toil and blood. I read Lord Moran's diaries, years ago, Winston's doctor, and it is true, he had woeful conditions and soldiered-on. That, however, was in the Age of Deference, when neither press nor public would pry into the health of our Masters, same thing happened with FDR, in the States, everyone conspired to keep his paralysis from the voters; that would no longer happen; Askey will face scrutiny over her health and how it influences her judgement; it cannot be otherwise.

You should know by now that I deny the existence of money, other than as a collective delusion, orchestrated by its changers, borrowed into existence and then traded, profits arising from both its imaginary rises and imaginary falls so, no worries, there, then, we are at one, two sides of the same worthless coin.

call me ishmael said...

I don't think it matters a fuck, what Trump says, mr mike tehb question is: are enough people so utterly disenchanted with what Clinton represents that they will vote for their own anger, mirrored in Donald Trump.

And as I said, his advisers eem quite savvy, to me.

call me ishmael said...

That's right, mr yardarm, only a guerrila war in the West's polling booths can cause a change of direction; for as long as we continue to eat the horseshit of The Markets and The Exchange Rates and do you remember, the Pound against a Basket of Currencies? So many pitiful numpties we have spawned, scanning the business pages, as though they were clever, predicting this and predicting that, all over the cyber toilet wall, like they were the greatest money-making giants since Croesos, It is fucking pathetic, tey way they think they can divine so-called markets which are just scams, preturnaturally rigged against them.

I have been saying for years that what we need is a chancellor who gets up in the cesspit and says, I am pleased to announce there will be no growth, this year, in fact the target of this house and of the entire human species is a reversal of growth; it is not the economy, stupid. How is it that rotten drug-crazed, redneck sex offender like Clinton coined what is believed to be the defining political slogan of the Age, but then, equally, isn't it apt? I hope his diseased heart falls out of his arse and that Hillary fries it up and serves it to her coven.

SG said...

Alan Fucking Duncan? Absolutely fucking right Mr I. His Wikipedia 'entry' is most illuminating:

Amoral or what? And just the sort of company a pantomime dame should keep...

call me ishmael said...

His only saving grace, Duncan's, amongst so many shortcomingss, is his public attitude to homosexuality, which is exactly as it should be, a personal choice, no more, no less, nothing to see, here. Unusual, confident, candid simplicity from such a thieving bastard as he.