Wednesday 11 May 2011

HOW TO SPEAK COALITION.

 THERE NOW FOLLOWS A NOT EVEN A PISS-UP IN A BREWERY PARTY BROADCAST.

A MESSAGE FROM THE CUPBOARD OF MR NICK GIMP, MP, THE UNELECTED DEPUTY PRIME MINISTER, IN WITH THE BROOMS AND MOP BUCKETS, UNDERNEATH THE STAIRS,
 TEN DOWNING STREET.

Mr Nick Gimp:

My fellow Toiletpersons. In the light of our stunning victory in the elections and in the referendum I have decided that under my leadership we must now blow our own trumpets a bit more, I mean cocks, we must blow our own cocks a bit more,  no… no……I don’t mean that, I do mean trumpets,  a Jeremy Thorpe moment, there, or do I mean Charlie Kennedy or David Laws or Simon Hughes or, Oh, take your prick,  I mean pick, blow our own trumpets, that's it…….Am I asking myself to blow my own cock?  Of course I'm not. I didn't come into govament to do this stuff, but if self-fellation is in the interest of the nation.  I'm not in this to be popular. Which is just as well

Straight Simon Hughes:
Make your mind up duckie, trumpets, trombones,
which is it, not that it matters to me because I'm not gay, I'm bisexual. And of course if the party asked me to stab you up the arse, I mean in the back, I would be compelled to serve the party which is my first priority and not going off to Spain on holiday every five minutes.......

Mr Chris Who:
My cock is entirely green.
Energy minister, Mr Who, his poor old Mrs and his new partner,
as they call them, Ms Carina Cigarillo-CarpetMuncher. 

Just because I left my wife for a lesbian doesn't mean I'm a Liberal Democrat, no, of course it doesn't, I'm a multi-millionaire and that's why I can identify so much with all these cripples and blind fuckers but that's no reason for them to clog up the Westminster thoroughfares, making it difficult for Ministers like myself to roar past in a green convoy of motorcycles, armoured RangeRovers and three-litre limousines. And anyway, anything anyone says about me is all lies and I'll sue them.  I've got the money, you know. Nick Clegg? Man's a cunt. 




Disconsolate Scottish LibDems head North for the last JockLib redoubt of Orkney and Shetland, where, unknown to them,  they will probably be burnt at a Presbyterian stake.

Mr Big Al "Big Al" Carmichael, MP,
Orkney and Shetland.


Do you know I get to go in and out of Downing Street? All the time. Almost.
(from Big Al's weekly fan letter to himself in the Orkney&Shetland Catechism, circulation 127)

What, men and men, together, you mean, Och No, we don't do that sort of thing here, certainly not. The Lord is my shepherd and he maketh me not to lieth down with other men and lick their bottoms;  well, only in London, anyway, and at Party Conferences. Blow Nick Clegg? Well, He did make me chief whip, so fair's fair, a man's a man for a' that, as we say in Scotland, or we would, if we had any MSPs there, which now we don't. Thanks to Mr Clegg.

1 comment:

yardarm said...

Clegg: a man who constructs his own traps, climbs in and springs them.