Thursday, 28 May 2015


This is Huw Welshman with the Six o Clock News from the PBC, where the top story is that former prime minister,
 Tony and Imelda Blair,  
is to step down from his role as Peacemaker to the World and assume the presidency of THIEFA,  the governing body of the world's organised crime syndicate of  bullies, crooks, knucklehead morons and gang rapists, other wise known as football.  Here's what he had to say.

Peepul of football. I simply say. My role as peacemaker is done. The world has never had.  So much peace. Especially in   Iraq.  Where I have succeeded.  Beyond my wildest. Expectations.  Syria, too.  Thanks to my efforts. Is now at peace.  The Palestinian question. Is now resolved.  
 Rabbi Blair.

And where one Israeli is killed, then quite rightly five hundred Palestinian children forfeit their lives, under masonry or tank tracks, doesn't matter, it's their  way of contributing  to Peace and stability in the region. And who would deny them that?


As it says in the scriptures, five hundred eyes for an eye. Fair's fair. And I'm known as a fair man, Oi Vay. 
And  Have a Negilah Day.

 My friend Benjamin Netanyahu. And my other friend. Wotsisname, the raghead bloke?   They enjoy a warm and constructive peaceful war.  Which sees their respective one and one-not  nation states not co-operating like never before.  

Thanks to my efforts with the late Mr Gadaffi, is it Gadaffi, Gaddafffi,  fucked if I know, but you know who I mean.  The gentleman who, as a result of my global statesmanship, had a scaffold pole rammed up his jacksie and his corpse violated by nig-nogs.  Gosh, I hope that doesn't  happen to anyone close to me. Like myself.  Better double my security guard. 'Sokay, the British taxpayer foots that bill. Quite right, too.

 Don't get much more peaceful transitions than that. Thanks to that, my initiative, things can only get better. My Gaddafi intervention. And I think it speaks for itself. People. Many thousands of people. Are leaving Libya daily. To seek a new life.

  At the bottom of the Mediterranean.  

 In Iraq, where once there was brutality - as well as the very real threat of Weapons of Mass Destruction, made-up by my friend, Porno-Al

 Alright, it was all made-up. So fucking what?
What's a few million roasted wogs?
What? Don't you dare call me racist.
And vote Labour. You stupid cunts.

- there is now a widening sense of peace and civilised democratic governance,

as the Blair Peace Revolution sweeps over the Middle East.

And Egypt, too, after the Arab Spring, is now firmly in the hands of an exceptionally peace-conscious brutal miltary dictatorship which executes its opponents by the hundreds.

Now is not the time for soundbites. But I feel I might pat myself on the back and say, the Middle East and North Africa, aflame, now, for decades.


I always said that I wanted to do more with my life than promote division, greed, war and torture and so now, as I retire as WarMaker-in-Chief, I look for further challenges, further opportunities to serve the common man.
 And what, frankly, can be more common than football?
Here's me, pretending to play it. With some wog children.
Yes, I know, they still have all their limbs but quite frankly, expecting me to maim all the world's wog children is a bit much.
Not as though I haven't done my best.

Mr Blatter has done a fine job, these past years, in promoting the timeless values of bribery and corruption but if I might say so, I am sure that I can do better.  The decision to award the World Cup to some stinking little Hellhole does urgently need to be revisited.  In my judgement, I feel that the raghead princes paid nowhere near enough to Mr Blatter and his colleagues but you can be sure that if they want to keep the fixture they will have to reimburse me rather more generously.  I mean, world statesmen don't come cheap, do they?  I think I can show the world's football lovers how the sport can be run for the benefit of everyone. But mainly me. And Lady Imelda of course. And I look forward to being of service.

The British General Election? Well, it was a bit of a disappointment but at least we got a majority, yes, I know, only thirteen but better than nothing.

Scotland? Yes, it looks as though I am vindicated there, too; I always knew that Devolution would break-up the Union.  And now it is.  My principals in Europe will be delighted.

Chilcott Enquiry?  What's that?

That'll be twenty-five thousands pounds, please, Huw. 

Yes, cheque to Imelda, as usual.

That was the prime minister for you there.  Talking Truth to Power. As usual.


Mike said...

Can't add to that masterful summary of a life well spent - except to say, Imelda's legs must be the most ugly things I've ever seen.

call me ishmael said...

Not something I would usually hold against a person, mr mike, their legs, but the ugliness of her soul is manifest in her every greedy, gobby inch. I reviewed all the Imelda photos in ishmaelia and she is a rolling spectacle of inescapable

Bungalow Bill said...

I have always thought this man was the perfect political creature of our age. A psychopathic narcissist who persuades himself, (insofar as he has a self), from moment to moment, that whatever he says to suit his mood and interests must be the very truth. Those who -empty like him- imagined that he would make things better just because they wished it so, turn against him and would kill him if they could. Such a sorry disappointment.

But that awful rictus grin. What on earth (or elsewhere) lies behind it?

Alphons said...

Bungalow Bill:- "What on earth (or elsewhere) lies behind it?"
A small ball of porridge masquerading as a brain.

SG said...

Good call Mr I. Must be worth a punt at the bookies... That said, I gather that Mr Mugabe's post may be available soon too. Wrong skin colour, I know (though there are precedents), but he has the right values and skill sets too plus the right sort of consort already in place.

call me ishmael said...

Gnasher must lead the field for Mugaba's job, running a one-party state, herself. Or, indeed, all the zealots presently worshipping on QT.

SG said...

Ah yes - of course! I overlooked her candidacy - but always good to see democracy in action... Alas sight of the usual suspects & usual audience on QT resulted in the near instantaneous exercise of the off switch... More than a little in common, FIFA & the PBC...

call me ishmael said...

Not the audience, mr sg, the fucking panel.

mongoose said...

The FIFA monster is breathtaking in his audacity. But, and I must confess to having no interest in footie, what do we expect? It is a game played by cowards and cheats, and serves only to impoverish the daft. Any one of the millionaire heroes would end up on a slab after ten minutes on a rugby field. And that would be five minutes if it was a Rugby League field. It is rubbish played by vermin - from the top to the bottom. The beautiful game? The thieving, vile bastards should all be hung in chains. In Qatar perhaps. Blatter first.

call me ishmael said...

I claim no special gift, mr bungalow bill, i am neither wise nor ancient, seer nor sage, yet the moment I saw Blair, I knew him; the grin said it all. I think people just invite betrayal. mr tdg would have a view on that.

Seems, anyway, that he has started to grate even among his masters in GlobaCorp, offended by the stature of his greed. Maybe he will yet suffer a come-uppance.

call me ishmael said...

Couldn't have damned it better myself, mr mongoose, but there is a bittersweetness to it, once a working class game, some of the early team names being suffixed with Wednesday, because games were played on the half-day-off and played by primordial local heroes. Oddly, the breaking of the players' wages barrier - was it Jimmy Hill, Jimmy Greaves? - caused the deterioration you mention. Yeah, fuck 'em. I despaired of it completely when Birmingham City took the porn money from Karren Bradey, Dirty Old Tory Lady.

Mike said...

I remember several years before he was paty leader. Blair was interviewed on some night-time politics show. From the waist up (ie desk top level) he was all suit and tie, but an inadvertant quick shot below desktop level revealed scruffy jeans and trainers. It was obvious from that early stage he was a phoney.

As for Imelda's legs, they are a flabby metaphore from the idle, greedy bitch.

call me ishmael said...

I didn't see that one, mr mike, must have a look in the cyber archives, see if it is there, somewhere. I only became interested in Imelda's looks when I read of all the expense which she and her paid best friend, call-girl Carol Caplin, went to, in order to look beatiful, but didn't, well, not Imelda, anyway. Work-outs, holistic showers, crystals, massages. And she still had face like a bag of nails.

Mike said...

It was on the PBC, around the 10pm mark, in the early nineties before I emigrated - if thats any help, Mr I. During Major's time - possibly at the time of some elections when they were beginning to fawn over the new prince in waiting. I'll try and find.

yardarm said...

JugEars WarCriminal and Slotgob: as alleged sky pixie followers the terror of their damnation is etched on their faces.