Stewart Hall OBE and hugely successful BBC nonce,
no, sorry, this is Lord Dr John Drunken Brawler Shirtsleeves Reid of Afghanistan, where no Tommy will be killed. Just four hundred of them, all for fuck all, only don't say it out loud, 'sbad for morale. Aplogies to his Lordship. Wee Big Man Johnny isn't a nonce, just nearly one, just a bully. There's no law against that when you're shadow defence seckatry.
from the Mail on Sunday 13 May 2007
the second incident, shortly before the death of then Labour leader John
Smith in 1994, when Mr Reid was Shadow Defence Secretary, was witnessed by
several people. One said: "John came lurching up and said to Dawn 'I want to
have sex with you, I want to f*** you, you want it as well." Ms Primarolo's
friend and neighbouring Bristol Labour MP Jean Corston intervened and, according
to a source, told Mr Reid: "You are a disgusting creature. Get away from her,"
adding: "That's it, I'm going to report him." Ms Corston, who is now a Baroness,
told colleagues she raised the matter with John Smith, commenting: "It won't be
happening again." One Labour insider said: "Dawn was on the verge of tears. She
said Reid had been harassing her over a period of years and had propositioned
her in the bar. It was very painful for her." When Mr Reid was summoned by the
Labour leader, he gave Mr Smith a sealed envelope containing his resignation and
told him that if he misbehaved again, Mr Smith should open it.
How very gentlemanly of them both, Smith and Reid.
The nonce-propre is the one below......
from the Mail on Sunday 13 May 2007
the second incident, shortly before the death of then Labour leader John
Smith in 1994, when Mr Reid was Shadow Defence Secretary, was witnessed by
several people. One said: "John came lurching up and said to Dawn 'I want to
have sex with you, I want to f*** you, you want it as well." Ms Primarolo's
friend and neighbouring Bristol Labour MP Jean Corston intervened and, according
to a source, told Mr Reid: "You are a disgusting creature. Get away from her,"
adding: "That's it, I'm going to report him." Ms Corston, who is now a Baroness,
told colleagues she raised the matter with John Smith, commenting: "It won't be
happening again." One Labour insider said: "Dawn was on the verge of tears. She
said Reid had been harassing her over a period of years and had propositioned
her in the bar. It was very painful for her." When Mr Reid was summoned by the
Labour leader, he gave Mr Smith a sealed envelope containing his resignation and
told him that if he misbehaved again, Mr Smith should open it.
How very gentlemanly of them both, Smith and Reid.
The nonce-propre is the one below......
......this one, another family institution bites the teenage pubis, I mean the dust. Revolting and infuriating. All-round TeeVee personality and child-fucker, Mr Stewart Hall, of the BBC.
This vile old git tried to front it out, scorning his accusers, until, presumably, his brief saw the evidence and he had to put his hands up and offer an insincere apology to those he was, just a few weeks ago, damning as liars, those whose lives he violated, whose dreams and fantasies he will have polluted. This piece of shit isn't some lonely fuck-up, some sick, mad freak, like your man in Wales; this is someone who for a lifetime, just because he could, because people let him, abused his position, a position afforded him by we, the Paedo Broadcasting Corporation license-payers.
This vile old git tried to front it out, scorning his accusers, until, presumably, his brief saw the evidence and he had to put his hands up and offer an insincere apology to those he was, just a few weeks ago, damning as liars, those whose lives he violated, whose dreams and fantasies he will have polluted. This piece of shit isn't some lonely fuck-up, some sick, mad freak, like your man in Wales; this is someone who for a lifetime, just because he could, because people let him, abused his position, a position afforded him by we, the Paedo Broadcasting Corporation license-payers.
I don't know how many men like this I know, have known, see around the towns, up and down the country. They all look the same, sound the same. Chiefs of this, assistant chiefs of that. Smug gits in suits and ties, oozing entitlement and pomposity., running their probation services or police forces like private harems. The councils are awash with them, directors of some ever metamorphosising service or other, all-together, bivouaced in some defensive charmed circle of mutual protection, elbows locked together against the ratepayer; fiddling their expenses, fiddling the planning applications, copperbottoming their pensions and early retirement packages, unaccountable, unsackable. And they all look and dress and sound the fucking same.
Reid is currenty peddling his home office connections like the political slag he is. Security consultant, they call it, Reid's game, when actually it's decent, ordinary people who need security from the likes of him. Worthless little shit.
He turned up on the wretched Newsnight the other night, a would-be eminence gris et petit. What he said was that it is vital that we have a minister for cyber-security, whole country's going to fuck if we don't have one, as if he and his erstwhile honourable colleagues hadn't already accomplished that - the country going to fuck. Do we remember Geoff Hoon, Bob Ainsworth, Gordon Snot, Blind Boy Blunkett, Hazel Blears, Gorbals Mick Martin and all of Reid's other Ninety-Day-Detention/ Identity Card partners in crime - Mandelstein, Lord John Pies, the famous cock-waving, inarticulate buffoon; big Al Campbell, drunk, depressive, forger and conspirator; and Tony and Cherie, a pair of filthy, greedy bastards who whored the office of prime minister like none in history ? Don't we need a minister to protect us from that gang, and maybe throw them all in jail, where they belong?
But no, drawing himself up to his full five feet five, wee John Reid insisted that the next war - he's an expert in war, Reid, just not a very good one - would be fought among the servers and mainframes of the world, as unspecified baddies hacked into this and that, unleashing unimaginable blizzards of shit. What we need is a high-powered IT security set-up, maybe operated, he acknowledged, by casually dressed young people but overseen by respectable men like him, with suits and haircuts - no, that's what he said. And what's the betting that he, Shirtsleeves, works for just such a company, one that can keep all our data safe. For a price.
If I had, as defence seckatry, sent British troops to a place which I declared as more or less safe for them and then, a decade later, four hundred of them were dead and thousands of them injured, not to mention the whole mission being a fuck-up, I think I'd just keep my head down and live on my pension, it's not as though it's a hundred quid a week.
Reid's earlier behaviour, anyway, should have seen him deselected by his constituency and thrown out of the Labour party; he
remorselessly sexually harrassed a female colleague and yet, without any form of censure, was fast-tracked and went on to fuck up nine different departments of state, notably the home office, in quick succession. Anyone in parliament who saw his sexual misbehaviour just turned their heads. Zero tolerance of speaking out, then.
And it was the same, obviously, at the BBC, with Hall. There was some Corporation biddy on the box, tonight, laughing that Hall had a unique accommodation set-up at the BBC, he had a former medical room, where he would entertain the ladies, between broadcasts. We not only overpaid him for his dire, talentless performances but we funded a kiddy-banging suite for him, too. And no-one said Boo!
Talking at High Table, tonight, Lord Chris Pooh, chair of the BBC Governors said
Well, quite frankly, none of it is anything to do with me and at the very least you should pay me a jolly good deal more than you are at present. Do you know who I am?
Reid is currenty peddling his home office connections like the political slag he is. Security consultant, they call it, Reid's game, when actually it's decent, ordinary people who need security from the likes of him. Worthless little shit.
He turned up on the wretched Newsnight the other night, a would-be eminence gris et petit. What he said was that it is vital that we have a minister for cyber-security, whole country's going to fuck if we don't have one, as if he and his erstwhile honourable colleagues hadn't already accomplished that - the country going to fuck. Do we remember Geoff Hoon, Bob Ainsworth, Gordon Snot, Blind Boy Blunkett, Hazel Blears, Gorbals Mick Martin and all of Reid's other Ninety-Day-Detention/ Identity Card partners in crime - Mandelstein, Lord John Pies, the famous cock-waving, inarticulate buffoon; big Al Campbell, drunk, depressive, forger and conspirator; and Tony and Cherie, a pair of filthy, greedy bastards who whored the office of prime minister like none in history ? Don't we need a minister to protect us from that gang, and maybe throw them all in jail, where they belong?
But no, drawing himself up to his full five feet five, wee John Reid insisted that the next war - he's an expert in war, Reid, just not a very good one - would be fought among the servers and mainframes of the world, as unspecified baddies hacked into this and that, unleashing unimaginable blizzards of shit. What we need is a high-powered IT security set-up, maybe operated, he acknowledged, by casually dressed young people but overseen by respectable men like him, with suits and haircuts - no, that's what he said. And what's the betting that he, Shirtsleeves, works for just such a company, one that can keep all our data safe. For a price.
If I had, as defence seckatry, sent British troops to a place which I declared as more or less safe for them and then, a decade later, four hundred of them were dead and thousands of them injured, not to mention the whole mission being a fuck-up, I think I'd just keep my head down and live on my pension, it's not as though it's a hundred quid a week.
Reid's earlier behaviour, anyway, should have seen him deselected by his constituency and thrown out of the Labour party; he
remorselessly sexually harrassed a female colleague and yet, without any form of censure, was fast-tracked and went on to fuck up nine different departments of state, notably the home office, in quick succession. Anyone in parliament who saw his sexual misbehaviour just turned their heads. Zero tolerance of speaking out, then.
And it was the same, obviously, at the BBC, with Hall. There was some Corporation biddy on the box, tonight, laughing that Hall had a unique accommodation set-up at the BBC, he had a former medical room, where he would entertain the ladies, between broadcasts. We not only overpaid him for his dire, talentless performances but we funded a kiddy-banging suite for him, too. And no-one said Boo!
Talking at High Table, tonight, Lord Chris Pooh, chair of the BBC Governors said
9 comments:
Patten is the one who intrigues me. He was happy to be sidelined in well paid sinecures away from the political spotlight. Like Leon Brittan.
And George Robertson.
And Alan Milburn
I.ve always said politicians should be "vetted", but "doctored" could apply just as easily.
Oops, you missed Harriet "PIE" Harperson and that other woman MP who was her co-conspirator as well as the Dunblane Mystery.
We are all eagerly awaiting the outcomes of the yewtree, the elmtree and the Jerseytree investigations - but there is a danger that most of us will be dead by the time they appear (cf Chilcott).
You also forgot the biggest reason why Reid's a cunt.
“What I had to consider is it effectively meant me giving up my political career,” he said. “It meant me stepping down from Cabinet, stepping down from Parliament – that was naturally a wrench for me. There are very few things, apart from my family, that would make me do that, but one of them was the chance to be part of Glasgow Celtic Football Club.”
Pretend hard man - gutless wanker.
Not fit to lick the boots of the servicemen and women who have died in a pointless conflict.
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