WOTSONTELLY, JACKINTHEBOX.

FORMER TORTURE SECKATRY SMARMING ON NEWSNIGHT.

I agree with the prime minister. 

Tough on crime, only not war crime, clearly.

Mr Jack Torture, looking like a PR man for the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, made a welcome return to  BBC Televiasion last night. Asked by the corporation's grunting transexual hunchback, Mr or Ms Kirsty Wark 

 

about recent sentencing controversies, the creepy bastard said that he was quite relaxed about savage, wholly unjustified and MediaMinster-directed sentencing in the British courts.

If someone deliberately misleads parliament, the United Nations and most importantly, if I may say so, Kirsty,  Newsnight viewers, about the existence of weapons of mass destruction, if one acts, if I may say so, as, if I may remind you, a lawyer,  with others in the preparation of false dossiers  and if one thereby incites a holocaustal war, 

bringing death, injury, homelessness  and terror to hundreds of thousands of entirely innocent human beings and, most importantly, if I may say so, as a lawyer and the former Justice minister, causes evidence obtained by the foulest torture to be admitted into the British Courts then one really should expect to be harshly dealt with by the Courts, although, of course, I haven't been.

You'll never get me in one of these places fuck no, if I may say so.

Chilcot Report? Oh, do fuck off.

EVERYWHERE THERE'S LOTS OF PIGGIES.

Mr Eric Pig, MP, was heard the other day saying, oh, these rioters whining, they sound like they've been talking to their social workers.  Here he is in full flight, whining; lest we  forget.

Hang an MP Week, he mocks; this bastard should be hung-up by the scrotum.

THAT NEWSNIGHT ROW

Professor Doctor David Gay, off the telly.

Look I simply put it to you ....shut up, I'm a famous telly historian, listen to me and you might learn something...I simply say that all black men are gay. David Lammy's a gay black man but in a decent white sort of way.  And all...oh do shut up, I've been on Jamie's Magic School.... and all white men are gay,too.  And all women. Black ones. White ones, gay, all of them . And you, Emily, you too

 Who me?

 Yes, Dearie, you too, no use telling me you're not a carpet muncher, I am a very famous historian and I know these things. Almost everone in history is gay. That Enoch Powell speech, it was Rivers of Sperm you know, originally. Mmmmm.

Are you seriously suggesting that I'm gay, me???

Well, of course you are, it's nothing to be ashamed of, perfectly normal, all important people are gay.

Well, I'll have you know that I am a serious journalist which is why I take every opprtunity I can to show my arse to the viewers, or anyone who'll look, really.

 Yes, of course you do, you silly girl, and that's my point ...and I do wish you'd pay attention....flaunting your arse at complete strangers, millions of them, what could be gayer than that? There,  queer erat demonstrandum, as we scholars say - gays do it standing up. Fancy a cigarillo afterwards?

RESHUFFLE NEWS.

AN ANGRY, OLD ETONIAN LAYABOUT GETS TOUGH.

Let me be clear, You will see more cabinet ministers getting arrested, 

I mean looters........

Look, Mr Prime MInister, Sir, I'm down here.

Mr Chris Who, minister for windmills.

Public school, Oxbridge, MEP, intolerable arsehole.

Faces prosecution for perverting the course of justice.

Unless it's not in the interests of justice/unlikely to secure a conviction/the DPP has been instructed to soft pedal. As usual.

But if he goes it will trigger a reshuffle and a rebalancing of the Cabinet to reflect the move to martial law/emergency powers.

 And I'm a liberal democrat, Mr Prime Minister,  could I possibly do anything wrong, like lie to people about being a hopeless drunk, shoot dogs, dump his wife for a dyke or pay people to shit in my face and eat it. Am I the sort of person who would say one thing, solemnly promise one thing  about student tuition fees and then do the opposite?  Well, exactly. It's not as though my party is full of liars like Mr David Laws and Mr Straight Simon Hughes and Highlands Charlie the ginger dipsomaniac and Mr Mark Oaten, the unfortunate balding copraphiliac and Mr Nick Gimp, your personal, nodding gimp, is it?

Baroness Gob, the disappearing Party Chairman/Person.

Recently seen briefly on TeeVee, looking as though she had been dragged by the hair backwards through the Hindu Kush. Otherwise entirely absent through MurdochGate and now RiotsGate.

Michael Filth, Deputy Party Chairman/Person.
Tory media enforcer. Or bully, if you prefer.

Now listen, let's be clear, I'm a hard man. Unlike that wog bint,

whose job I should have and am, in fact, doing.

I'm like a white version of Norman Tebbitt.

The guy who made all that money from privatising Telecom.

And unknowingly took bribes from al-Fayed.

Or so he says, the rotten old shit.

Now, gimme a proper job.

THERESA NEW BOOTS AND PANTIES, HOME SECKATRY.

Woefully out of her depth in RiotsGate and a surpise appointment to the Home Office.

Good, really, for fuck all.

Mrs Michael Spit-Gove, adding-up minister and allround cunt.
A loyal Murdoch employee whilst moonlighting as an MP in Opposition
Sent out to quell the riots and speak saliva-flecked, angry, red-faced peace unto the Heathen whilst the catastrophically over-promoted  Mrs May was busy sorting her shoe cupboard. More U-turns at Education than a whirling fucking Dervish.

Good morning children, my name is Mrs Gove and  I'm frightfully clever, spit-spit.

And I should be home seckatry, in charge of punishing naughty people.

Just like I punish you by closing down your schools and youth clubs and throwing your parents on the dole, but only for a fortnight.

After that they must stand on their own two feet, spit-spit, as we do in parliament.

WOTSONYOUTUBE. Cameron's back, and useless, looting at number 10.

THINGS YOU SELDOM SEE IN RUIN'S BRITAIN

I HAVE NO COMMENT TO MAKE, I AM IN MOURNING.

MINDLESS CRIMINALS RECALLED. NUMBER 1, DIANE I HAVE WALKED THE STREETS OF HACKNEY ABBOTT, REVISITED.

Apologies to People's Heroine Abbott.

Prompted by mr oldrightie I checked Abbott's entry in the Register of Members' Bungs;  the BBC only paid her approximately three hours @ £300 for her hourly appearances on This Week  probably an hour  in make up, an hour getting pissed  and an hour on the sofa, not quite a grand an hour, then.  ITV, by contrast, paid her the whole grand for her appearance on Cash In The Fucking Attic.  Got her finger right on the pulse of urban deprivation has Comrade Abbott. Fuckpig.

MINDLESS CRIMINALS RECALLED. THIN BLUE LINE OF ROBUST FAT COPPERS ROBUSTLY LOOTING OVERTIME FUND, WE WILL FIGHT THEM ROBUSTLY IN THE STREETS, WE WILL FIGHT THEM ROBUSTLY IN THE SHOPPING MALLS, WE WILL NEVER SURRENDER.

THE GREAT CHILDREN'S REBELLION OF 2011.

CRASS, SHALLOW AND STUPID,

,

A MINDLESS VANDAL ON HOLIDAY.

If there's any looting to be done it'll be done by families like mine and Mr Osborne's and Mr BoJo's and by honourable and right honourable members of this house, Mr Tiny Speaker;  it's the way we've always done things, as a look at our expenses will reveal, even today. And as unelected prime minister I will not sit still for a load of niggers and benefit cheats muscling-in on my act, and that of  very decent international fmanciers who are, at this very moment, wrestling with weighty matters as they seek to find new ways to rob working people of such advances as they have made this last sixty years.  We will arrest and lock-up anyone who tries to do inappropriate looting, even if there's nowhere to put the little bastards;   that will be a matter for my fat friend, the Justice Minister, Smoky Ken Clarke, if he can be prised out of some seedy jazz club. We can always build some of those, whatchamaycallems, concentration camps, that's it, only temporary, of course, until I'm properly re-elected without any of this Coalition nonsense - and did you see the barracking that old Gimpy got in Birmingham, I bet he wishes he'd stayed at home in Madrid or wherever the fuck it is - or we can house them in some of the many hospitals which are insufficently profitable for the private sector to take over and destroy, like it does everything else;  train fares going up, energy prices going up, British Telecom a laughing stock, inflation going up, unemployment going up,  stock markey fucked, London on fire. Glad none of it's my fault. And isn't it time, Mr Tiny Speaker, that the former unelected prime minister, the member for the Kirkcaldy Oxfam shop, came to this house and apologised for all my secret meetings with  NewsCorpse which unfortunately did not result in  Mr Murdoch taking over BskyB and then the BBC.  All of which, of course, is now forgotten about as honourable and right honourable members vie with one another to  find new ways to punish the very poorest, most hopeless members of society, or the enemy within, or the sick section of a broken society, only not in Chipping Norton obviously, where we can swim in champagne if we want to, robbing fucking bastards. No, I mean them, not us.

 A GANG OF MINDLESS CRIMINALS PREPARES TO TRASH PUBS

AND RESTAURANTS IN OXFORD.

AND NOW A MESSAGE FROM COLONEL GADAFFI

Inshallah, Bismillah, Salaam eleikum, whatever, man, like, do your own shit when it comes to those religious salutations, man, don't sweat the God vibe.  But no, really, man, this is heavy shit,  the young brothers and sisters trying to throw off the yoke of fifty years of consumerist oppression - every time you open your eyes there's some cat telling you you gotta have this shit or that shit, this car or that phone otherwise you ain't nobody, and it don't matter a fuck if you got no bread, you just borrow it off some  thieving dog in a suit and so whaddathey expect young cats to do,  they see them dudes in the  parliament looting the public purse and bein' punished with a week off work, and they see the so-called royal family consorting with jetset nonces and flogging-off favours and blowjobs to gangsters, and they see the chief of police taking bribes and just getting a thankyouverymuchhere'sagoldenhandshakeallmenoftheworldpayoff, they see the newspapers crawling up people's asses and bugging their every private conversation and getting rewarded with knighthoods, course they're gonna riot, man,  the thing is, is why the whole fucking country ain't going up in smoke? And now the dictator Cameron's police and army is  beating-up on them.

  What'd be like really cool would be if NATO could just surgically bomb the shit out of New Scotland Yard and the Palace of Westminster and protect the young hopeless kids who've just been shat on all these years by fat fuckers like the infidel pigdog Prescott and the NewLabour Gang of Four and now the carrion  tyranny of what they call the Coalition. It's like really heavy, there in GeeBee,  they're doing shit that like nobody but nobody voted for,  they're all like sucking on the Man's dick dumping on the guy in the street and now they're talking about arming themselves against their own people, for the revolution that everybody knows is coming down the highway, right at them. NATO gotta get the fuck off its arse, get its shit together and protect the citizens of the YouKay 'cos, like you know, man,  like the Prophet said, peace and blessings be upon His name, in sleepy London town, there's just no place for a street fightin' man.

ANOTHER FUCKING USELESS GIT.

No, I'm not calling for the prime minister to go. But what I would say is that if those three wonderful Asian Brummies were alive they would want me to be prime minister. So let's all just think about that.

 No, my brother wouldn't be any good, he'd just want to torture everybody and then cover it all up. Even me.  He was like that. I'm not saying I don't love him. It's just that I hate him.

In our next bulletin.

The Met Commissioner Sweepstake.

Acting Commissioner Tim Godwin-Gob, 10,000/1
Assistant Commissioner Steve Kavanagh-Gob, 20,000/1
Bruce Forsyth, even money
Lieutenant Columbo, a hundred to one on.

plus

The white backlash.

We ask Mr Nick Griffin what he'd like to do with young black criminals.

plus

Straight Simon Hughes
on what this all means for his career,
the fucking horrible hypocrite bastard

ALL OUR YESTERDAYS, YOU CAN MAKE IT UP.

from CMI 21st July.

HACKING LATEST: BBC TO RECALL QUESTION TIME.

 

Mr Mark Beardy-Git,  contemptuous Director General and chief benficiary of the BBC.

 The Director General of the BBC, Mr Mark Beardy-Git, has announced that the Corporation is to recall David Dimble-Git, the nation's hereditary broadcaster, in the light of the hacking scandal which means that Mr Rupert Shit won't , after all, be able to take-over the BBC, in line with Downing Street's Chipping Norton media strategy. At least not at the moment.

The nation's hereditary broadcaster, Mr David Narcosis,
former Bullingdon Club rioter and mindless criminal, is recalled to chair a Riots Edition of Question Time. That's what we need.

 Yes, you, the man in the cheap shirt, only mind what you say, don't be rude about my guests, your rulers, or I shall cut you off.  We're not here to discover what ordinary people really think, we just want the cliches of braindead numpties who want thirty seconds on the telly. And fuck me, there's no shortage of those.

MINDLESS CRIMINALS RECALLED, NUMBER 1. DIANE I HAVE WALKED THE STREETS OF HACKNEY ABBOTT.

Firebrand socialist MP, Diane Gabshite.

I would just like to say, Mr Tiny Speaker, that I have walked the streets of Hackney and I would simply say that these people should be like me, they should flog a load of intolerable old bilge to the newspapers - or columns  as I like to call my ouvre -  for fifty grand  or so, get themselves on the BBC with that wearisome old poof, Portillo, and get paid about a grand an hour for dribbling and waving their arms around and then they should get get a job moonlighting in this place, along with six hundred-odd others who really know the meaning of the word looting.  Oh yes, Mr Tiny Speaker, and they should take several holidays a year in the Caribbean and of course send their sons to decent public schools.  Like I do.

Cheers, waving of order papers, singing: for she's a jolly good darky, for she's a jolly good darky, for she's a jolly good darky and so say all of us (apart from  the Old Etonians, former  Bullingdon Club members  and HM Govament, prop. skymadeupnewsandfilth)

 Mr Tiny Speaker: I call the Unelected Prime Minister. Mr David CallHimDave.

Well, I thank the  honourable skanky 'ho and would just like to remind  members that this whole rioting thing is an ideal opportunity for the public to forget that we, the cops, the press and the bankers are all picking their pockets, closing down their services and  shitting in their faces. And is, therefore, a jolly good thing, for us at any rate. And that's what matters.

Cheers, hear-hear, singing: we're all going back on a Summer Holiday.

POLAR BEAR NEWS

A spokesman for the Arctic Polar Bears Federation, Mr Sven Growl, below,

said Vell, vat de fuck is it zey are wanting, it is our fucking place, innit, und my members have been living and hunting here for fucking milleniums, fuck me Jesus, ve haff been eating any old stuff, explorers, missionaries und politicians who come up here for ze photo opportunity, like zat clown Cameron, iff only ve could have munched on zat bastard, eh,  All zat shit, about R Whites Lemonade

 Und some friendly old bear coming in ze kitchen at midnight for a nice liddle drink.

Iss all fucking bullshit, or bearshit, iff you vill. Bears don't fucking drink lemonade, iss bad for ze fucking teeth, innit?

You people are so fucking stupid, iss not as iff zare is a fucking Tesco every two kilometres vare ve can go und get ze fucking groceries, iss it?  Und so iff you fill ze fucking place up vit schoolboys und overgrown schoolboy outvard bounders zen my members iss gonna fill zare fucking boots, innit, or paws, in zis case.  my members, I vood remind you, are all fucking wild animals and no difference it makes if dinner is a brave, kind and most loved son, eaten he vill be, just ze fucking same.

Brigadier General Rupert Golightly-Jockstrap,

 of the Stupid Arseholes Mad Travelling Association said, in his deep brown voice,  it really is totally unacceptable, wild animals,  killing  people and our thoughts at this time are with the stupid bastards who entrusted their children to my organisation which, clearly, cannot be held responsible for putting them in danger, even though it is.  I mean, who could predict that a wild animal would attack someone, especially if there was an alarm wire all around the bivouac, no, no, the fact that it wasn't working was neither here nor there;  these damn bears have shown themselves to be completely untrustworthy, undeserving of the money which these dopey parents are puttung in my pocket, I mean the environment.

TIRED OLD TELLY TOTTY TRASHES TEACHERS

Times are hard, even in luvvieworld, where five million pound contracts have dried up quicker than Cilla McCann's tears and former stars in a desperate effort to remain in the limelight are now being forced to join in the national debate about why all the kids are as thick as pigshit.

 Repulsive old  slapper,  Carol Voldemart, above, has joined the debate about  teaching standards in her pet subject, pouting, I mean mathematics.

When I was on Countdown I felt that I was a model, a role model for the nation's eggknobs, I mean heads, gazing at me in my microdresses was, I felt, a fine way for the nation's youth to improve itself. The newer, younger slut now trying feebly to do my job is a great disappointment. Now that the unemployed, the retired and the students can no longer look at my arse

 the nation's mental arithmetic skills have gone to the dogs.

This is, of coures, like most things in life, a blessing in disguise as if people can't even do their two times tables they won't be able to see just how much of a rip-off are the financial companies  I am proud to represent, none of which would ever dream of making an honest claim about their loansharking products. I mean dishonest.

I'll  just have the two from the top,  please, Carol

RUN AND GET THE FIRE BRIGADE. THE COALITION ON HOLIDAY.

Interviewed on skymadeupnewsandfilth, Tottenham MP, Mr David Buffoon,  NewLabour, said it was all unacceptable, totally unacceptable, that he was being made to look like an utter cunt before the world's media. As usual, blustered the useless bastard, it is a majority of people who think I'm a cunt, and the great minority who voted for me and my fellow MPs must have its voice heard. If there is one thing I would say to the people made homeless by these totally unacceptable events it would be Vote for Me, you can be sure that I will hear your concerns and do nothing about them.

Elsewhere in London, the Mayor, Mr BoJo, could not be found, despite a search being made of whorehouses, coke parlours and the offices of his employers, the Daily Filth-O-Graph, but a statement issued from his office said that the Mayor would find it absoluteley unacceptable, all this shit, rioting and stuff, hadn't he single-handedly secured freebikes4all, yes, and the Olympics, what would all the foreigners think of this shit.  I do think that although he has done a fine job, Sir Paul Gob, the Police Commissioner should consider his positiion....what, the blighter's already gone ????   Well his deputy should go, then. not a moment too soon.  What???? He's gone too???? Well, some sergeants, they should go.  The policing of the capitol is a very important matter and not to be left to some coked-up,  cock-waving nincompoop.  And another thing, this is all the work of a criminal minority,  bent on undermining the blah-blah-blah...you all know what I'm saying, help me out here........gosh, I hear they've been looting shops, don't these people have trust funds for their shopping. Anyway, once my holiday is over you can all be assured that I will give this matter my fullest whatchamaycallit, remember my Bullingdon Club motto,  cogito ergo dumb,  I think but I am an idiot.  Not to worry, what, just a handful of wogs playing up, a few water cannon'll sort the buggers out. And hopefully people will see my handling of this great city as an example of how I would rule as Prime Bully, I mean minister. Rotten appointments, rotten  police resigning left right and centre and the place up in fucking smoke and me nowhere to be seen.Vote4Boris, what?

A statement from the unelected prime minister's holiday location said that Mr CallHimDave  was keeping in close touch with events in wherever it was, some slum in North London.  This is exactly why I have a cabinet of millionaires, said the worthless, jumped-up fuckpig  and former PR man, to reflect the concerns of the ordinary rioting Briton who hasn't a pot to piss in and my govament taking away what little support there is is a sign of our very great concern that rich people must, simply must, there's no two ways about this, mr deputy speaker, rich people must have more money.

Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside.

And if the whole fucking country goes up in smoke - only not Chipping Norton or Chequers, obviously - then it will all be as a result of thirteen years of  Labout misrule and nothing to do with me. I must say it's a bit rich that the former prime minister has not come to the house to take responsibility for all my fuck ups but at least the people of Britain will know  that I am doing everything I can to condemn this stuff as being totally unacceptable in a modern democratic police state. And to all the people who have lost their homes and businesses I simply say a heartfelt shutthefuckup, you're just the first of many.

Here on skymadeupnewsandfilth we will be following this story and if possible fometing more riots up and down the land as part of our attempts to draw the line under all this Murdoch shit. I'm Kay Burley. Stay tuned or I'll bite your face off.

Ms Kay Burley of skymadeupnewsandfilth

EVENSING FOR DOMINIC. Graham Parker - Hotel Chambermaid

FINANCIAL NEWS WITH THE BBC.

And we are joined now by the BBC's Economics Editor, Stephanie Tits, in Washingtton. 

SYEPHANIE TITS, OF THE BBC.

Stephanie,  your father was one half of Tits and Swan, wasn't he, what can you tell us about the debt crisis which could engulf the world, again?  Yes, he used to mouth irritating faux-sardonic songs from his wheelchair, tuxedo up top and normally covered  up in a plaid blankie, down below, whilst the other geezer 

FLANDERS AND SWANN. 

WORSE THAN THE FUCKING GOONS.

tinkled the ivories.So you could say, Gavin, that clearly journalism is in my blood.

  Yes, dunno what Simon Cowell'd make of that sort of  an act, a singing cripple.  But talking about cripples, how's President Obama gonna come out of this? 

Well, the crisis is over, Gavin, for now at any rate.  Basically what happened was that something nearly happened, but didn't, in fact, it was never gonna happen but being journalists we had to pretend that it might happen, otherwise there's no point in me being here to cover it.  I mean, clearly, everybody knew that it wasn't ever gonna happen but everybody had to go through the motions ......

A bit like one of those  backbench Labour rebellions, all piss and wind...???

Yes, that's right Jeremy, it was, as we economists say, all piss and wind, all got up to frighten the voters. What they do is they tell people that they're not gonna get their pensions or salaries or anything and then they say Oh, alright then, but we'll have to cut them right back, now, which would you prefer, no salaries and pensions at all or most of your salary being diverted to the richest people in the world and you keeping a little of it? It's a no-brainer, as we economists say......

it's what the Coalition is doing, here, frightening everybody, setting groups of workers against one another and siphoning all the money off for its friends, giving tax breaks to people who hardly pay any tax at all.

You mean like Georhe Osborne letting his mates at Vodasphone off billions of pounds in tax?

Yes, Gavin, that's right, and blaming the nurses and teachers for it, it's what we economists call divide and rule,  But you know that, anyway, we're all part of it, you and I, the BBC, our colleagues at skymadeupnewsandfilth, everyone in MediaMinster.  Just as long as we keep on telling people that there's no alternative to them having their living standards halved,  there's no alternative to an unelected govament of spivs and chancers, and there's certainly no alternative to the financial terrorists raping the assets of entire countries then our jobs're safe, simple economics, really. No point in us slinging mud, mud, glorious mud at the people who employ us. I mean, I didn't come into showbusiness to offend rich people.  There'll be another crisis along shortly, to keep people on their toes, and keep me flying around the world at taxpayers' expense.  there's fucking dozens of us here, just now, covering this made-up nonsense for the BBC.

Thanks Stephanie and enjoy the shopping in Washington.  That was Stephanie Tits, our economics editor, there; yes, I know, beggars belief, but she has fucked half the Labour front bench. And now, it must be nearly ten minutes since we've had a weather update, so over now to Cindy Tits, who has the latest for us. 

THANKS, GAVIN AND IT'S A BLEAK OUTLOOK 

FOR ANYONE WHO WORKS FOR A LIVING

BUT THE REST OF US SHOULD BE ALRIGHT

ROYAL WEDDING NUMBER TWO. WE RATE THE OUTFITS. FROM OUR ROYAL EDITOR, NICK SLAG, IN HMP WORMWOOD SCRUBS.

 Mr & Mrs PotatoHead, cantering down the aisle.

 DO YOU, ZARA, TAKE THIS OIK TO BE YOUR LAWFUL SCRUM-HALF?

DO I?  NOT 'ALF, GIDDY-UP.

Miss Pippa Arse unfortunately  was not present when Zara, daughter of bad-tempered old slapper, Anne and that dopey,  stuttering buffoon, Mark Philips, wed her stable lad. Probably too common for Anne, is Pippa.  The Princess Royal - fuck me, Jesus but  there is an infinity of titles these fuckers award themselves - is famously snooty,  tight-fisted, randy  and up her own arse, rather like her late Aunt, the dipso, Margaret, indeed, Anne's  mother,  Queen Tupperware,  is hardly known for her benevolence, except with my money, to herself and her kin.

The rest of the riff-raff were there, though, for a night-before party on the former Royal Yacht Britannia, a wedding in a sealed-to-the-public Edinburgh kirk and a piss up from a vodka fountain in Holyrood House, one of Brenda's Northern palaces.  The rugby player groom was supported by stars from that sweaty firmament, Lawrence Coke Dealer Dalallio among them and the Firm was out in force, Brenda and Phil the Greek, Mr and Mrs Prince Gormless

SENIOR MEMBERS OF THE BOARD OF FREELOADERS INTERNATIONAL,

RELAXING AT A PREVIOUS KNEES-UP AND TAKING THE AUSTERITY PISS.

The Royal Wedding Group in the Throne Room at Buckingham Palace on 29th April 2011 with the Bride and Groom, TRH The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge in the centre.

Front row (left to right): Miss Grace van Cutsem, Miss Eliza Lopes, HRH The Duke of Edinburgh, HM The Queen, The Hon. Margarita Armstrong-Jones, Lady Louise Windsor, Master William Lowther-Pinkerton.

Back Row (left to right): Master Tom Pettifer, HRH The Duchess of Cornwall, HRH The Prince of Wales, HRH Prince Henry of Wales, Mr Michael Middleton, Mrs Michael Middleton, Mr James Middleton, Miss Philippa Middleton.

and the Young Conservatives were represented by  Prince Harry Hewitt,  the famous drunken Hooray Henry bastard

 I COME FROM A BROKEN HOME AND A DISFUNCTIONAL ROYAL FAMILY.
THE TORTURED YOUNG WARRIOR, ANXIOUS TO BE OUT SHOOTING WOGS.
FROM A SAFE DISTANCE.

who delighted crowds by stumbling up the gangway of Britannia, before the Sun was over the yardarm. Six thousand fans, as the Scotsman described the assembled Edinburghian dimwits, cheered and applauded as they were excluded from the happy couple's happy day.  No doubt there were congratulations from Wisteria House and the head office of MoribundBrothersRUs,

LABOUR'S ROYAL FAMILY SEND THEIR CONGRATULATIONS.

I SIMPLY SAY THAT IF PRINCESS DIANA WAS ALIVE SHE WOULD WANT ME TO BE PRIME MINISTER.

NO, SHE'D WANT ME.

AND IF THERE IS ANY EVIDENCE OF MY COMPLICITY IN TORTURE WE MUST ROOT IT OUT AND COVER IT UP.

 praising the great work these shameless gold-diggers do on behalf of horse riders  everywhere,  and, indeed, the Olympics, which were, let us not forget, secured for Britain by a Labour Govament, led by someone we have all completely forgotten about and in fact never knew or worked for, below.

LABOUR'S TONY BLAIR TAKES OLYMPIC GOLD 

IN THE MASS MURDER, TORTURE AND GANGRAPE TRIATHLON.

His Royal Highness, Andy, Duke of York, friend and employee of child molesters and coke-snorting Arab playboys,

I KNOW OF A GREAT HOUSE, I CAN LET YOU HAVE IT FOR THREE MILLION OVER THE ASKING PRICE. AND YOU CAN FUCK MY EX-WIFE, FOR A FEW QUID.

FIFTEEN GRAND'LL DO IT, CHEAP FOR A FAT DUCHESS.

PRINCESS FERGIE, DRUNKEN EX-ROYAL FOR HIRE, HOURLY RATES

OR ALL NIGHT.

was there but his former wife, the greedy, idle fuckpig,  author, tireless charity worker and all around slag, Ferguson, was absent, maybe she was deemed too rotten, even for a gathering of the rottenest. Fat Andy, probably still piqued at having to sack himself from all those junkets around the world was attended, instead, by his daughter, Beatrice, Princess Freeloader.

Under pressure from, well, nearly everybody apart from his private clients, the disgraced duke has proclaimed grandly that he was thinking of giving up his lucrative pimping career anyway and has decided that now is the right time to move on and undertake fresh challenges, the cheeky cunt .  This disgusting arsehole is said to be Queen Brenda's favourite son, still, what with the petulant fairy, Edward and the greedy, idle, sticky-fingered, ski-ing fornicator, Brian, the tight-fisted, creepy old crow isn't exactly spoiled for choice in the sons department.

And as for Granny, the HM part of HM Govament, she retains her customary self-protective silence as, in the form of Old Etonian layabout, Oliver Letwin, Her Govament is now openly boasting that working people need to  have fear instilled, need to be worried about their employment. It is a kind of a New Victorianism which the Toffs' cabinet promotes, only without the invention, the resources of Empire, the skills of artisanry and the markets of the globe, a Clarksonian Britain, of stupidity, vanity, greed and corruption.  If we are to meet Mr CallHimDave's expectations of us in the Great New Age of Coalition Austerity;  many must lose their jobs, insists his idleness, Letwin,  if productivity and quality of outcomes are to be maintained in the public services - only not among the politicians or the bankers or the very wealthy, like this  ridiculous shower of slime, cardboard cut-out  princesses and princes in comic opera uniforms,  Christ, no, certainly bloody not. The Royals, and the News of the World, they're the concrete which holds the nation together. Off with their fucking heads would be my sentiment, up against the wall, motherfuckers.

But in Ruin's Britain,  providing a spectacle of extravagance,  unmerited privilege and ostentatious contempt, the second in a few months,  the House of Windsor-Saxe-Coburg-Battenberg, via its extended network of benefits claimants, courtier pimps, panderers and shamelessly enthusiastoc arselickers can be deemed productive; showy Ruritaniasm for the Sun-reading imbecile is, after all, a form of public service.  Maybe good Queen Brenda, never one to upset Her Govament, not even in the face of an unprecedented  and unmandated attack on the rights and living standards of millions of her subjects, can add to the happiness of this sporty couple, Zara and Wotsisname,  by giving the young couple, to the nation's tumultuous delight,  a county or two, she cannot have used them all up on Prince Gormless's recent wedding. Or maybe she can, but she can always declare some new ones, always enough money for Royal Dukes and Earls and Princesses, just the poor and the sick should go to the wall,  the best people must retain their tiaras and palaces,  their Chipping Norton mansions.

Along with bent  senior cops and bent senior politicians in the pay of skymadeupnewsandfilth, the regular jamborees, jubilees, tours, birthdays, ski-ing holidays and weddings of this filthy gang of Greco-German slag  upstarts must comfirm our image, abroad, as the most Northerly banana republic in the world. God save the Queen, Brenda, her heirs and successors.


THE HEIR PRESUMPTIOUS, PRINCE NEDDY SEAGOON.

show moreOne is conscious that one is all in this thingy together. Only not this one.

Yes, the medals and sashes, grand aren't they, one won them. Off one's mother.