NOT YOU, MR UNELECTED PRIME MINISTER,
THAT'S FOR SURE.
It goes to show that we have them on the run, the fuzzy-wuzzies, said Brigadier General Rupert Golightly-Jockstrap of the Queen's Own NancyBoys Regiment, and that's why they're killing so many of us. Responding to the death of Western personnel in a Kabul suicide bomb attack, the Brigadier said it was always unfortunate when the wrong people got killed, much better when it's Afghani or Pakistani citizens, tragic though that is, and we do try very hard not to kill them, although, as that great Afghanistan warrior, General CallHimFlashman has said, you can't make a war omelette without breaking a few eggs, or children's legs, just as long as they're nigger children, living on benefits. Responding in the UK to those events, the unelected Prime Minister said Now Look, lets be clear, ordinary normal people would be quite happy to see suicide bombers fined twenty five pounds a week, and not the derisory fiver, as at present. No, he continued, jaw set truculently, arch traitor Sir Doctor Liam Fox is not being fined £25 a week or even five pounds a week for his crimes but instead would be given £17, 000 in benefits, a load of wellpaid sinecures and a seat in the Lords, in order that he keep the fuck quiet and not make my job more difficult, not that it is difficult . I do believe in giving people a second chance, only not poor people, of course, who are poor by their own choice, their own fault. Dr Sir Liam has paid a significant price - ie nothing - for not doing anything wrong, apart from treason, fraud and false accounting and it is only right and proper that he be rewarded by the taxpayer with a lifetime of luxury and keeping quiet about what he knows about me. Not that there is anything to be ashamed of, and if there is it is a private matter.
In other news the most famous, most ghastly, creepiest closet queen in history, Sir Jimmy Arsehole, has passed away;
we, guys an' gals, must hope that in due course, Mr Satan fixes it for Jimmy. Police said there was nothing suspicious about his death, although they could not say the same about his life. No business like showbusiness.
we, guys an' gals, must hope that in due course, Mr Satan fixes it for Jimmy. Police said there was nothing suspicious about his death, although they could not say the same about his life. No business like showbusiness.
a reader writes: Sir Jimmy raised a great deal of money for charity, especially for the Stoke Mandeville Spinal Injuries Unit and you should show him some respect, signed Terry Wogan, (Sir) of the BBC and the Sunday Filth-O-Graph, a fellow charity bandit and cheery deejay, spinning platters for the people.
In response to Sir Terry's letter (above) I would just like to say that I think Jimmy Saville was a cunt. And so is Terry Wogan. And as for Dave Lee fucking Travis, Jesus, don't start me. signed, Ishmael Smith, blogger and graduate in anarcho-plumbing studies.
7 comments:
30 seconds with pen & paper exposes "Jimmy Saville" as an anagram of vile slimy jam.
de mortuis nihil nisi sputum
It'll be Sir Brucie, next, maybe Sir Jimmy Tarbuck,Sir Sean Connery, Sir Michael Caine, whatever will we do without them?
One of the things which thrilled me, emerging from the SavilleFest, was that he spent thirteen consecutive Christmases with the Thatchers. Godalfuckingmighty, what must that have been like? No wonder Mark and Carol are such shithead zombie morons, having to spend Christmas with that crew. Stuff of nightmares.
Charles and Horseface are also said to be desolate at the loss, appalled. He musta raised some money for them, too, the horrible old freak.
With Maggie and Chazzer behind him, I assume he will get away scott-free, unlike Jason King, who was locked up years after the fact.
Whoops
Jonathan King.
Weren't both those Kings queens? Wasn't it Peter Wyngarde who played Jason King and didn't he fall foul of some phoney redfaced moraliser, like Sir Kelvin McKenzie?
Jonathan, come to think of it, was of the Hague-Fox school of age-inappropriate relationships, wasn't he? Everyone's gone to the Moon, that was his song.
Mr I: I think you are overdoing it a bit on Mr Saville. OK, he's shellsuits and bling may not have been to your taste, or mine, but he wasn't as dangerous to our lives as, say, Blair/Brown/Cameron.
As a kid I lived in Salford, near to one of Saville's gaffs. My dad was a friend of his driver. I remember my dad relaying that Saville was a good bloke who helped his mate's family out in times of illness and hardship.
I can only go on facts, not hearsay.
I think anyone who consorts with premiers and princes is - a priori, as we scholars say - a danger to my life, mr mike; that a nation which can bomb the bejasus out of wogs all over the world can well - and should - afford forty million quid for a spinal injuries unit; that the mining stock from which he famously sprang would have something to say about his Adoration of the Maggie; that he knew nothing and cared less about music and relentless self-promotion was his only interest. Maybe he did bung his mates a bit, doesn't everybody, but my conidered view of him is that he was as rotten, as shallow, as egotistical and as utterly talentless a creature as showbusiness ever vomited form it's rancid guts. And that's saying something; that the people admired ot, at least tolerated his rubbish is saying something else.
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