I WANT MY DINNER!
Mr Lord Fatty Rennard, a very large Liberal Democrat, is to resign his post as the the party’s Chief Fat Executive.
"It is impossible to exaggerate Chris's immense contribution to the Liberal Democrats expenses bill over the years” said Mr Nick Haircut, Chief Toileteer, "Without Chris's unique skills as one of the country's most astute and effective expenses fiddlers I doubt that the party would now have the largest number of clapped out, overweight, alcoholic, bisexual, copraphiliac MPs in decades."
Lord Fatty is reported to have claimed over £40,000 for a second home when he owned a flat near Westminster, but his announced resignation was nothing to do with criticism of him being a thieving bastard, just like all of them, fuck, no. In a statement announcing his planned departure, Lord Rennard said he wanted more time "outside the Westminster bubble" for himself and his dinners. And his breakfasts and lunches and afternoon teas and elevenses.
They are very big shoes to step into, said David, Lord Steel, the party's smiling abortionist-in-chief, but I think I'm up to the job, what's the exes like?
6 comments:
Mr Fox is enormously fat. The troughers are getting fatter every day. There is a contradiction in the assertion that these people work terribly hard and their body shape. I am very aware of this as these days I waddle around at all of 10 and a half stone, barely able to move, let alone work, and even getting to the dinner table is an effort. The reason for my weight gain is down to the fact that I have a houseboy who cooks me roast potatoes and does the hoovering. If I was as fat as Mr Fox or Mr Watson I would need a stannah stair lift.
Yo, Lilith
Where else in this dark quadrant is displayed such erudition?
I have no houseboy currently but serve as one to my dog companion, Buster, who, by the acute interest he has taken to showing in other dogs' droppings, is developing Liberal Democrat tendencies; he does not pay other dogs to do their business in his face, like a full-blown right honourable Libby, but even so.
Do you think, by any chance, it is by eating poo that Lord Foxy has so enhanced his girth that he must be craned into his favourite seat at the Savoy, at our expense ?
Lord Nicholas Soames is my favourite, jowl-wobbling fat motherfucker of all time. I wonder of others have favourite fat bastards, too ?
I am not clear how calorific poo is, Mr Ishmael. Buster is just winding you up. (He gargles with dettol when you are not looking.) Lord Soames clearly wears his gut with pride but I would take a bet on him outliving Mr Fox.
I am afraid that we seem to have developed hiccups hereabouts and I cannot remove this errant re-posting without the house and grounds disappearing into another dimension. I was lucky to get back the last time and shall not try again.
If Buster gargles with Dettol how come his dental work has just cost me three hundred quid, those nice bastards at Direct Line drawing my attention to the small print toothy exclusion only after the vetbastard had fleeced me. I can't afford to go the fucking dentist, even if there was one here, which there isn't thanks to the Jock Tribesmen cutting all the money and sending it to Donald Trump and Sean Connery.
Don't believe all that stanislav shit about Scotland being the best part of England, he only thinks that because he comes from a horse-drawn economy where the women wear headscarfes anad wellies for best; it's Hell up here.
ioj;oij;oij
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