PRIME MINISTER MAY'S MESSAGE TO FORMER CHANCELLOR, JUNKY GEORGE.
GO HOME OR BE ARRESTED.
The best news of the day, I know it's not saying much, but to see the back of this repulsive rodent is a small pleasure.
FIRST GENTLEMAN REASSURES INVESTORS.
Mr Theresa May
Hello Playmates.
I-fang-you, I-fang-you, I-fang-you.
And here we are, before-your-very-eyes.
In Downing Street.
From the Independent
Theresa May’s husband is a senior executive at a $1.4tn investment fund that profits from tax avoiding companies
Exclusive: May mentioned Amazon and Starbucks in speech about tax avoidance.
No, no, playmates, you won't be paying any more tax, I mean, Tracey may wear the shoes, but I wear the fucking trousers.
I-fang-you, I-fang-you, I-fang-you
17 comments:
They're not really there any of these people, I cannot sense Tracey as a substantial presence now, Arthur also looks like the Matrix boys have run him off some template. Fallon, Fox, Rudd, Hammond, the Buffoon et al. We are governed by no-one, we have arrived nowhere and nothing is going to happen. Peace at last.
Nice work Mr I. It is mighty strange, but the moment I clapped eyes on Mr May I thought 'Arthur Askey' yet I was only 18 when he died -WTF? He was hardly someone who occupied my mind at the time but I guess he must have seeped in somehow without me realising it. I shall pick up a 'Private Eye' to see what they do with it and whether they owe any 'Royalties' to us here in the Ishmaelian Realm...
Indeed Mr SG, the first time I saw his picture the words "I fang Yew" popped into my head. As if that wasn't bad enough, I have had the words and tune "oh what a wonderful thing to be, a busy, busy, busy, busy bee", going through my head as well.
Osborne, the odious little shite, could have expected nothing better than perhaps having been allowed to resign on his own terms. He should have done that this very afternoon, shouldn't he - "To allow the incoming PM a completely free hand in forming her new administration, I am standing down as Chancellor with immediate effect. I remain willing and eager to serve my nation in any capacity required." The austerity tag will be buried with him too. And now that the McDoom Deficit is under control to the tune of our only overspending just the £70billion per year, we should all rejoice and crack open the credit card bubbly. (Total debt, of course, is still a freakish 20 or so times that. How the fuck we are going to deal with that without a proper war boom and some sky high inflation, I have no idea.)
Yes, Mr May does look a bit of a dobbin but what do we expect - 'tis showbiz for ugly people. I rather think that Mistress May may be a brighter cove than I gave her credit for, and certainly as ruthless as she has been described. If Brexit is fucked up now, it will be the Brexiteers who failed. Christ, the Tories, eh? They make the rest of the world look like amateurs.
In other news, it looks as if I have been cast aside by the Comrades. Ah well, I've had my three-quid-worth.
I think he's before many people's time, Askey, he was big in the forties and fifties yet his style is part of the national consciousness, somehow. I remember him not for his comedy but for the tragedy of his death, related to me by a smoking cessation therapist. Seems the funny little chap was a heavy smoker which led, as it does, to circulatory problems, and when he was older he was hospitalised to have his leg removed; the plucky little fellow defiantly carried on smoking, playmates, and then they removed his other leg. It is a true story, of addiction and drug peddling, and I have always hated Ken Clarke for his role as, firstly, Health secretary and then as ambassador for British American Tobacco. I hope, partly on behalf of Arthur Askey, his arse falls out, all over his suede shoes. I still have plenty of champagne, with which to to celebrate his painful death.
Quite right, mr bungalow bill; I don't believe Amber Mad is a real person; how could she be?
I understand, mr mongoose, that one can still get a vote by joining UNITE.
Yes, of course, in fact, Junky George should have made a similar statement on the day of Cameron's decision to resign - I will leave with the prime minsiter - them being linked at the hip-pocket and all, but he is without any qualities whatsoever. I hope his groping, patient-molesting bro' still has a prescription pad.
I said, years ago, that the debt is just impossible, ours and Uncle Sam's and I'm sure everyone else's. There's an illustration, here, somewhere, of what thirteen trillion dollars looks like and its mind-boggliong. There are twop remedies - a global default or a war.
RT is currently running with Tracey's husband's business, the Independent has also ran it. Seems, also, that the Republicans are still going to Corbynise Mr Trump, come the formal selection of their candidate, Y'know. over-rule the will of the party they claim to represent. I'm determined to vote for Corbyn, me, and I hate all of them.
I didn't, mr gasky, have the busy-busy-bee thing in my head, but I do now, thank you.
A relation always buys me a s yearly subscription to the Eye, so I am in a position, mr sg, to cancel it, in a letter to the editor. I gave it up, years ago, in favour of Viz magazine but the print in that grew illegibly small and it wasn't funny enough to justify the use of a magnifying glass. And I started seeing the Fat Slags everywhere, in real life, like mr mike's description of Sheffield's fat, tattooed bastards. I still like the stuff in the back of the Eye, there's some hard journalism there but it is time that Hislop of the PBC fucked-off out of it. He's as funny as liver disease, isn't he, and grows more Tory every year.
Aberdeen, in the morning; I'll see what the oily fisherfolk make of all this. It's thribesmanland, or it was, until the oil markets disobeyed the FatMan and his groomee, Gnasher, whom, I fondly believe, will be eaten alive by Her Indoors. I fear they are born ugly and miserable, Aberdonians, and that developments South will not lift their congenital, angry scowl.
Call me a naive old fool, a glass half-full merchant, but so far, so good.
Osborne is history - a tick. She has appointed 3 blokes who cannot be described as yes-men into key Brexit roles - OK, we may not like them, but she has limited clay to mould. Some say this is a ploy so that failure can be pinned on the Brexiteers, but that is over-egging the pudding in my view. Any backsliding by May will cause her cabinet to fall apart in double quick time.
Actually, I think May is a closet leaver - it was a surprise when she declared for remain. And she was noticeable only by her absence in the campaign. Obviously a cynical career ploy (she's a politician), and she was proven right.
Its early days, the jury is out. But so far better than I expected.
I hope, partly on behalf of Arthur Askey, his arse falls out, all over his suede shoes.
But it did, Mr Ishmael; did you not see the shattered schock all over his face? OK, it was political rather than physical but there was definitely a terrible stain on his trousers and a sense of the interviewers trying to stand away to avoid the pong. If this Brexit business works out (fingers crossed) it will gall him every day, being the first thing he thinks of in the morning and the last thing at night, and at every moment in between. 'How dare they defy me, they will starve for this'.
Bearing in mind that on 30 May he was calling Boris 'a nicer Donald Trump', this appointment as Foreign Secretary will rub some extra salt in to Clarke's flayed ego.
Wish him a long, long life and meanwhile enjoy every dinner just to annoy him.
Do tell us about Aberdeen; my conversation with a tour guide down in Dundee was that the collapse of the oil work has hit the town (and his brother-in-law) very badly as they cannot easily get those rates even in the parts of the economy which are humming. Success seems to be very unevenly distributed in Scotland. Jobs are there but not necessarily at the stellar rates they were getting.
That stretch along the Tay estuary has all the signs of wealth, though, some of it based on the steady stream of tourists shovelling money in to what ever can be rented, eaten, drunk, visited or carried away as a souvenir. Did I mention we went to an evening opening at the museum? The staff were expecting a few dozen supporters but it was filled with hundreds of people, most of the from Dundee. It was like the Tiger Who Came to Tea; they drank all the coffee in the cafe and then bought all the gifts in the gift shop.
Eventually the staff politely begged to be allowed to go home; enough with the culture, the gallery will be open tomorrow.
Obviously I am biased but that south-facing slope is a cracker of place to visit or to live in. My local correspondent has been complaining for weeks that the weather is too hot and that the palm trees are springing up in the sheltered dells between buildings.
Didn't make Aberdeen, today, mrs woar, I was feeling a bit crook. I went to the airport but didn't fancy it and camcelled. It is an oddity, more exotic cars to the square mile than anywhere outside Londonistan; the second cars are Range Rooneys, the old man's is often a hundred grand Merc. Union Square shopping mall is filled with fashion and accessory shops you never heard of and witch have no prices on anything. The harbour is right in the centre of the city and a big employer. The hospital and university complex is massive, employing many and bringing professional visitors from all over the world. Where Dundee's agriculture is largely soft fruits Aberdeen's is more mixed, often beef cattle. It is the nature of success that it is unevenly distributed, I guess.
I have seen dozens of oil worker flights, leaving for Manchester and Birmingham and at first mistook them for prison transports, so loutish and disagreeble were the hundred or so blokes queueing for the departure, absolutley horrid, uncouth thugs, bullies and many who resembeld the pixillated males from the Big Fat Gipsy Wedding horror show. If job cuts make them a little less roustabouty that will be no bad thing
On a sunny day the civic architecture is sparkling and grand, a bit idiosyncratic, interesting, with mediaeval remnants, prosperous-looking, unlike Dundee city centre's dilapidated down-at-heelness, even Aberdeen's inner-city poor seem less desperate than Dundee's angry drunks and beggars. Overall, though, Dundee is much less hectic than Aberdeen. I think the silv'ry Tay cannot but cultivate an air of introspection among those who dwell on its banks. There isn't a nice road in or our of Aberdeen but do try a long week-end, if you are in the area, it's worth a look.
I like neither place, but if by the South-facing slope you mean the Victorian west end of Dundee, sloping up from the Tay on the road to Perth then that is probably my favourite place in all of urban Scotland.
Yours would seem to be the consensus view, mr mike. Letwin leaving is one less eminence grease, so to speak, although the retention of Murdoch's man, Hunt, as well as the promotion of Dopey Phil are disappointing. We shall see. Whatever else, it is great to shut of Cameron and Osborne.
I never bought the idea that Michael Spit was a big talent, he's just a big talker, but I suspect he's well enough placed to piss into Her Indoors's tent at quite a rate. Also disappointing is the return of the ghastly Fox and whatever gentleman he's currently squiring, the horrible fucking bastard.
I always despised Dancing Queen, Tracey May, thought her cruel and vastly out of her depth at the home office, God knows what sort of a fuck-up she'll make now.
What do the Aussies make of it?
Well, the new Foreign Secretary deserves some credit, clearly he's a good judge of character if his description of Hillary is anything to go by: "She's got dyed blonde hair and pouty lips, and a steely blue stare, like a sadistic nurse in a mental hospital."
Gosh, good for BoJo. Well he's a good judge of women,they say, the opposite, it seems, of David Bananas, who worships her. Time the rules were changed, I feel, so that Dave could simply start leading the Labour party in Hillary's image - money, crime and spunky old men, only not for Angie, obviously. Do you remember that NewLabour conference, post-Lewinsky, cheering Spunky Bill to the rafters? C'mon Momentum, that's what I say. They could bring back DeggsieHatton as far as I'm concerned, he couldn't be as bad as this gang in parliament.
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