HAPPY CHRISTMAS, WAR IS OVER
(APART FROM ON IRAN, AND SYRIA AND PAKISTAN)
(AND UNEMPLOYED, HOMELESS AMERICANS)
(AND UNEMPLOYED, HOMELESS AMERICANS)
PRESIDENT AUTOCUE SALUTES HIMSELF
My fellow gang-rapin', prisoner-torturin', driveby-shootin'. crewcut, Mommasboy, psychobastard, cocksucking' motherfuckers, Like myself, you have distinguished yourselves by your patriotism and I salute y'all. Eye-rack is so much better now than it was before we started our orgy of patriotic violence. A million dead, is it? So what, my fellow motherfuckers, most of them dead sonsafuckinbitches was niggers, or as near as makes no difference. And in the glorious history of our great nation patriotic ethnic cleansing has been our watchword - injuns, niggers, gooks, ayrabs - we done killed millions of them and that's what makes this nation the last great hope of mankind. God bless all you motherfuckers. I will now come and walk among you and shake your bloody hands, closely protected by a regiment of coked-up secret servicemen, just in case any of you gun-crazy fucked-up, crazy fucks decides to take a pop at my ass. Semper fi, rally round the flag, y'all. vote for me and I'll shut down Gitmo. And sort out all thsi banker shit.
NICK CLEGG
DEAD MAN NODDING.
THE DEPUTY PRIME MINISTER AND LAUGHING STOCK OF THE UK .
Mr Noddy had other commitments in toytown as Mr Cameron humiliated him, once more, in the house of commons. Speaking on Radio Sheffield, Mr Clegg insisted that Eurrope was still at the top of the agenda he had, here, in his rough book. Lots of British jobs depend on Europe, said the worthless piece of shit, especially mine.
Gazing iinto the distance through steely, hooded eyes, the former leader of the Shiteaters Party, Field Marshal Lord Paddy Pantsdown said, I used to be a soldier, y'know, and in my opinion, quite frankly, David, in my judgement, not to put too fine a point upon it, if my country calls upon me to be deputy prime minister, post facto, in absentia, ad hoc, dipso mania and in flagrante delicto then I stand ready and willing, with my pants down and my cock out; there's plenty of seckatry pussy in Downing Street, after all.
MONSTER OF WAPPING AT THE LEVO SHOW.
Former Commandant of skymadeupnewsandfilth SS unit, Obersturmbahnrmfuhrer Colin Myler, said today that he never knew nuffink, how could he know, he relied on underlings to tell him the troof, especially about Gerry and Cilla McCann, with whom he had a mutually profitable relationship,
DR CILLA MCCANN, DETAINED BY PORTUGEEZER CRIMINALS.
MERELY BECAUSE SHE IS SO BEAUTIFUL.
he would never do anything wrong, he said, lying in his fucking teeth, his hands clamped firmly in front of his poxed-up, shitty, arse-munching lips. And anyway, he couldn't be expected to remember stuff, could he?
DR CILLA MCCANN, DETAINED BY PORTUGEEZER CRIMINALS.
MERELY BECAUSE SHE IS SO BEAUTIFUL.
he would never do anything wrong, he said, lying in his fucking teeth, his hands clamped firmly in front of his poxed-up, shitty, arse-munching lips. And anyway, he couldn't be expected to remember stuff, could he?
Asked by Mr Anthony Chevenix-Beard, counsel for the Levo Show, if he really expected anyone to believe a word he said, Mr Filth said that Herr Max Mosley was a dirty orgying bastard and deserved everything he got and that smoking dope was worthy of the death sentence on account of the impact it had on young people, whom his newspaper sought to protect by bombarding them with salacious, tittilatory, prurient pornographic and entirely untrue strories about whomseover it pleased, apart from other so-called journalists and politicians
I REALISE THAT YOU ARE A DISGUSTING WORTHLESS FUCKWIT, MR MYLER, UTTERLY ESTRANGED FROM TRUTH AND DECENCY, NOT WORTH A FUCKING BULLET AND BEST JUST THROWN INTO THE THAMES WITH A PAVING SLAB AROUND YOUR NECK, BUT REALLY, YOU ARE TALKING SHITE, AREN'T YOU, TO THIS ENQUIRY, (ie ME). TIME FOR A BREAK, I THINK, AND A TOM TIT FOR ME AND SOME OF THOSE ENERGISING BOLIVIAN WHITE POWDERS WHICH MY LEARNED CLERK PROVIDES. ALL RISE.
In tomorrow's news. How to Superpimp your Christmas.
With Jamie Oliver.
Honest, Superpimp Chrismas, not invent.
In tomorrow's news. How to Superpimp your Christmas.
With Jamie Oliver.
Honest, Superpimp Chrismas, not invent.
11 comments:
Voters are quite clever and that's to be prayed for. Blighty still hasn't done religion yet this Europe thing has to be Catholic, has to be. Chinks not buying the IMF but have $3 trillion knocking about in Rome? Oh my me.... no jooos or aarabs when accountants trade, eh? Releif.
Seriously Mr Ish, I used to work for some local Tories and this win means a bit. They have been constant and are a bunch of social ejeets but finally, finally - some lad called Cammo lets them all off the watch; job done. They should look after themselves. Politics is a job as well as an opinion - some guy is doing 20 hour days and health is a massive factor.
I don't give a fuck about their health, mr dtp, politicians; they surely don't care about mine.
Mr I: you are not a fan of Kelvin, but wasn't it he who coined the immortal moniker "Paddy Pantsdown". A classic of the genre.
Maybe so, mr mike, but according to herself, on Newsnight, last night, he also insisted that pictures of the fumeral of Anne Diamond's infant's funeral were in the public interest. The man's a cunt. Besides, phrase-coining is no substitute for journalism, as my own creation, Gordon McRuin, Spunky Bill, Toilets Maguire and others will attest.
Obama and Flashman are blessed by the state of their opponents. Obama, a stilted preaching dullard, possibly one of the fifty most gifted youth club organisers Detroit has ever seen is aided by the fact the inadequates, cranks and timeservers the Republicans can put up against him are even more laughable. They haven`t even been able to find a Grinning Simpleton, a Reagan or Dubya so Wall Street might let Obama work for another four years on their behalf.
And Dave, insolent oaf that he is is able to comprehensively bog wash the hopeless cretins on the bench opposite and has the toilet shooters and dog eaters by the balls, if they have any.
Leveson ? Didn`t Ken Dodd run rings around him in court ? So we know what sort of report he`s been tasked to produce: Flashman wrote it weeks ago. And MacKenzie and Alastair Campbell will go on Brillo`s show to smirk about it. Three hunched, monstrous turds, like something out of a Quatermass film.
I saw a little of Jamie's Christmas show before going off to do something more interesting - washing up I think. Mr. Ish, hanging is too good for him, so we're raptly waiting for your choicest invective - fond memories of A Feast of Jamie with Stanislav chasing the turkey bastard round the yard and pulling up some weeds to stuff it with.
"Three hunched, monstrous turds, like something out of a Quatermass film."
Too close for comfort, that, mr yardarm.
This outbreak of familycide, cops and other assorted rubbish knifing their wife'n'kids, bless, and then topping themselves, why don't they go and bury a hatchet in McKenzie's poisonous skull, or Littlecock's or Heffer's, any of these bought and paid for redneck opinionisers, either instead of or in addition to their poor families, why don't they 'do just one good deed before they die?'
He's a typical Mr Justice Slag, Levo, archly nitpicking and over-courteous, nothing will rattle his commitment to the custom of wqhitewashing.
He is a ree-pulse, isn't he, Oliver, addicted to himself.
Leveson will do sweet FA. There will be a bit bleating and sob and a sigh here and there, and then we will all just get on with our lives.
Free Press, eh? That's free as in "already paid for".
Mr.Ish, may I remind you that, in Bolshevik regimes it's always and without exception minor No.2 who pulls the strings behind the curtain while No.1 acts as a figurehead (or giant forehead?) and lighting rod for plebs' anger.
Lemme pull that curtain back for you, just a tiny bit...
The doctor's link is worth a look; the idea of George Robertson, Mr Arseface, or Lord Robertson of Dunblane, as he is affectionately known here, working quietly behind the scenes for the public good is rich in irony.
What that lot needs is a laser-guided big boom. Christ, if that is wisdom and open-heartedness, well, it is beyond parody. Wretched, horrible fuckers need machine-gunning. WHat is wrong with people that they hang out like that listening to shite and swinehood. "I say, old chap, are you pottering down to wherever-the-fucking-place-is fo the beano? Jolly good cellar, what?" Aaaaargghhh. And the continent in flames! Fuck them all.
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