AN EVEN MORE CARING RURITANIA
This week we examine how the Royals are increasingly diversifying their business interests into the charity sector. Her Majesty, Queen Brenda, has always, without irony, conscientiously waved her diamond-encrusted hand
at the poor and suffering and despite having a colossal business empire to run - as well as herds of horses, fleets of vehicles, breathtaking art and jewellery collections, sixty-five million employees and a sprawling property portfolio to oversee - Queen Brenda, our longest-serving parasite, has always found time and energy to allow other businesses - mainly corporations leeching on Suffering, like Oxfam and Save the Children - to append to their begging letters the legend Patron HM the Queen.
In addition to this monumental sacrifice Her Majesty often confers knighthoods on those virtuous individuals busily raising funds for their own salaries and pensions ostensibly on behalf of those robbed by generations of aristocratic thieves and murderers, like herself and her ugly, inbred German family.
Virtually all of her Majesty's huge, limitless family of benefits scroungers are deeply committed to waving at the poor from their Bentleys but the Queen's heir, Prince Brian, has combined his family's charitable instincts
In addition to this monumental sacrifice Her Majesty often confers knighthoods on those virtuous individuals busily raising funds for their own salaries and pensions ostensibly on behalf of those robbed by generations of aristocratic thieves and murderers, like herself and her ugly, inbred German family.
Virtually all of her Majesty's huge, limitless family of benefits scroungers are deeply committed to waving at the poor from their Bentleys but the Queen's heir, Prince Brian, has combined his family's charitable instincts
with its deep love of oppressed paedophiles;
No, Peter, come and stay in a grace and favour home.
I've got loads of them.
I've got loads of them.
HRH Brian's is a kindly disposition, one shared by his half-brother, the Duke of Cock, seen below, comforting paedo jailbird, Jeffrey Epstein - friend and pimp to Spunky Bill Clinton, Tony'n'Imelda Blair and Mr and Mr Obama -
and partaking of Mr Epstein's juvenile wares, below.
or sex slaves as they are better known
when it comes to charity the Royals, then, are truly an inspiration to the rest of us.
And it doesn't stop there, fuck, no, this is the news that Prince Gormless, his mrs and his brother are launching a groundbreaking new charity.
Building on their late mother's giving charity blowjobs to army officers, police protection officers, arab playboys, Asian medics and even lepers, the younger Royals are banding together, well, three of them are, to form Royal Nutscape, a charity for the mentally ill. We say three of them because whilst opening the FA Cup Final,
Prince Gormless let slip that he, Princess Waitress and Prince Pissed-up Hooligan
Meet the New Firm
were going to raise the profile of bonkers people,
poor bonkers people, anyway, not his own gang of deluded inbreds, which is beyond help;
he didn't say that Princess Caring Slut was going to be involved, probably be too busy, with the nappies and the washing-up and hoovering.
No,no, I never saw any Casting Couch goings-on in TinselTown, absolutely never, if I had I woulda spoken out about it, that's the kinda person I am.
All the actors and actresses got their roles purely on merit,
yes, that's right,
exactly like in the Royal Family.
(And that's just a few of them.)
Meet the New Firm
were going to raise the profile of bonkers people,
poor bonkers people, anyway, not his own gang of deluded inbreds, which is beyond help;
he didn't say that Princess Caring Slut was going to be involved, probably be too busy, with the nappies and the washing-up and hoovering.
All the actors and actresses got their roles purely on merit,
yes, that's right,
(And that's just a few of them.)
Look, Harry - m'bro - he gets his picture taken all the time with limbless squaddies, almost like they were his mates, if that wasn't just so, y'know, fucking bizarre, most of those daft bastards haven't even been to Harrow, never mind Eton, how could they be mates with the 'bro, like, of the king-to-be. Even so, it gets him favourable headlines, takes attention from the fact that he's an utterly useless wanker, poncing off everybody else. And so I thought it would do me some good to be seen - instead of being on holiday all my life - having my photo taken with nutters.
Whaddayamean, I already do?
Oh, yes, Bravo, ha-ha-ha, RAF, Marshals of the Ruritanian Air Force, jolly good, Harold. Must tell that one to FagAsh Lil, your StepQueen, I mean mother
(sings) Saxe-Coburg-Gotha uber alles,
as we'd say in our own language.
The future King of Ruritania, God bless him, long to reign over us, although not in Australia, is continuing his family's fine tradition of feigning concern for those not as spoilt, pampered, fawned-upon, brutish, pig-ignorant and deserving of being put up against the wall, motherfuckers as his own family
Whaddayamean, I already do?
Oh, yes, Bravo, ha-ha-ha, RAF, Marshals of the Ruritanian Air Force, jolly good, Harold. Must tell that one to FagAsh Lil, your StepQueen, I mean mother
(sings) Saxe-Coburg-Gotha uber alles,
as we'd say in our own language.
The future King of Ruritania, God bless him, long to reign over us, although not in Australia, is continuing his family's fine tradition of feigning concern for those not as spoilt, pampered, fawned-upon, brutish, pig-ignorant and deserving of being put up against the wall, motherfuckers as his own family
whilst continuing to right royally shit on them.
God save the Queen.
WITH HER HEAD FIRMLY UP THE ARSE OF HER OWN GRIEF.
Recent tragic events are all about me, Very quickly the dinnerpartyistes have recognised that I tried very hard to do an impossible job, in an impossible situation with an impossible bunch of cunts.
Everyone now thinks that I am a tragic heroine of the order of Queen Boudicca who, like me, fighting against the European bureaucracy, gave her life for the British people.
Thinking dinnerpartygoers have realised that, just like Gerry'n'Cilla McCann, I am the victim here.
Here's the speech I should have given.
Firstly, I am terribly sorry that I let myself be put forward as PM following the cowardly absconding of David Cameron.
I am a Remainer, making me leader of a country which had only days before voted to Leave was, to put it politely - I am a clergyman's daughter - taking the fucking piss.
But even before that I should have apologised for, as Home Seckaterry, permitting immigration to rise massively whilst assuring people that it was falling. I am truly sorry for that failure and that deceit. And that is why it is vital that we remain in Europe, so that over half a billion people can come and use the NHS, not that they will, of course, because as I said about immigration, the figures are much exaggerated, even though, thanks to my tenure in the Home Office, nobody knows what the figures are, could be any-fucking-thing.
I should apologise also for colluding in the so-called Austerity, which was driven mainly by that spiteful, shit-eating little freak, George Osborne
but also by everyone in the House of Commons, every last fucking one of them. Alright, it was a reaction, quite understandable, to honourable and right honourable members having been exposed as thieves and their wish to take vengeance on taxpayers who had queried their expenses. And I do think it was crucially important to show the electorate that they work for us and not vice versa and that we work for the bankers. Obviously, now, I am sorry for Austerity. In fact, |I should be ashamed of myself for not speaking out about it. My own tragedy, however, far outweighs that of millions further impoverished by their legislature, traduced and demonised for their poverty, hiding behind their curtains, idling, as we then said.
On reflection,however, it was probably tright to confiscate their wheelchairs and tax them on their specially adapted spare rooms which were simply too much of a strain on the nation's finances, especially since the bankers have ordered us not to build council houses which would rob tnem of ever-more unaffordable mortgage repayments. Same with the libraries, a huge expense and in any event people only get dangerous ideas by going to the library instead of watching Daytime TeeVee, as they should.
As I depart, therefore, theatrically tearful, I am deeply apologetic for all the lies I have told since being elected MP, for all the wrong decisions I have made in office and which have had such a resoundingly dreadful impact on the country which I love so deeply and have tried all my political life to mis-serve.
I shall go back now to my husband, Arthur Askey, and lick my shoes.
I mean my wounds.
33 comments:
Arthur's doing that suicide bomber thing with his finger in the final photo. What's the Home Counties, one-nation-Tory version of 72 houris? Probably an eternal loop of Antiques Roadshow and a nice cup of tea, with his-&-hers butt-plugs for afters.
v./
Looks like she got out in the nick of time, they'd have needed buttplugs impregnated with slow-release Valium after tonight. Watching Big Al Campbell on the BBC, just now, he looks like he's had a there-there, happy pill enema, dopily calling for a national govament to overturn the EuroRef. Demophobes, you gotta love 'em.
Field Marshal, Viscount, Lord Idi Amin, Nobel Laureate had a way of taking the piss. Although, to be fair, he actually served in the British army, becoming heavyweight boxing champ. As did Colonel Gadaffi with his obviously photocopied array of ribbons he used to wear when on military parade alongside his personal bodyguard of nubile women. They both obviously learned a thing or two under colonial rule.
PS congrats to Sid. The fun will now begin. The UK has become ungovernable.
Such boneheads. Or are they cheats? Fools or knaves, eh? Fucking Tribesman No 1 is currently spouting his cack. Huw Welshman, is it, look you, leadenly guiding the humble viewer towards the inevitable abyss. If you add up all the oranges and the buckets, and the lorgnettes, you will have more trouser presses than the other lot have got dormice. The notion being that if you are not against us, you are for us. What casual and easy deceit. What stupidity. Layla Stoner the Oxbog LD woman now waving her arms and yelping like a eegit. It is enough to make the hens weep. Go back to you constituency and prepare for a nice kip, Layla. Tomorrow does not belong to you.
A little more subtle, I thought, was Huw Welshman's focussing on Anne Widdecombe - Look you, they're all mad, old bastards, isn't it. Adam Lard, on skymadeupnewsandfilth, was even less subtle, from the word go claiming victory for all the remain voters, he is, mind, married to Tony'n' Imelda's former fluffer, Angela Hunter? As if New Labour ever won the majority of the national vote.
The young narcolepts, indifferent to their dear papa’s threat of disinheritance, voted Green, so they are quite pleased.
So glad you are back.
Thanks, mrs n, lovely to see you. The young everywhere are voting Green. I, however, was Green when it was still a colour and not a virtue semaphore and well, y'know - bargepole; million years; all the tea in China. The accepted wisdom is that getting the young to vote is automatically a good thing but the people who say that also said that queueing-up for Harry Potter and the Uterus of Grief was as transformative as was the Gutenberg Press, the invention of moveable type. Disinheritance is a distant threat, I would suggest immediate banishment.
The Sunday Ishmael - a welcome return! Good to have a paper that does not require emptying out into the bin before attempting to extract whatever morsels of real news may lie within. Forgive paucity of input, Mr I, 'mechanical issues' afflict! BTW, along with many of the brethren assembled here, I also voted for the Nigel Front... keep well and keep publishing - the two are connected maybe? Otherwise, the 'firm's' organic funny farm awaits...
Thanks, mr sg; I am pleased about Sid but I don't think that from Europe the newlyminted MEPs can do much, even if they want to, now catapulted into travel, big salaries, expenses and pensions. Jerry Corbyn should resign, he has been such a disappointment, demophobic and cowardly, if there was a boat he might've boarded he's missed it, now.
A trans-european resistance movement should be initiated but I don't think it will. mr mike and others here suggest the UK is now ungovernable, I dunno but I hope so. We need an Underground, a Maquis and we get the Austerity-ShitEating-ChildMolesting-Jailbird Tendency shouting its demophobic conceit at us; Ed Davey, milkshakes be buggered, I'd piss all over him.
If you think what has to happen by October - I'm ruling out further extensions as that would really set the cat amongst the pigeons.
First: a new PM has to be elected (assuming Tracey goes). This will not be an easy task, and the attempts to shaft Boris (disclaimer: I'm not a fan) will lead to a civil war in the Tories. Likely, some nonentity (like May) will slide through as the compromise, which solves nothing, in fact makes it worse. This exercise will go on until at least July, causing paralysis in all else. Then summer hols will intervene.
Second: assuming the existing WA is a dead duck, then a new one has to be negotiated. Given this process can't start till a new PM is in the saddle, and the last WA took 3 years, and the EU has said they will not reaopen the existing WA - but in all likelihood may tinker a bit, but not in a meaningful way. Then realistically a new "deal" is pie in the sky.
Third: its is still the case that the HoC is for remain, which is at odds with the people, and only plays into the hands of Sid.
Therefore, the likely position by October will be the Tories still in-fighting, no sign of a deal, WTO therefore the only option (which Parliament won't accept) and Labour calling for a GE. By then the DUP may have withdrwn their support for the Government. And Sid and his merry men will be getting stronger.
It will be total chaos, which is why I say ungoverable. Some of us, ie me, find this a delicious prospect to look forward to. If people were not so fat and lazy they would be out on the streets a la les gilets jaune. It may yet come to pass.
Another alternative, already being seeded, mr mike, is that the SidSurge is just a noisy, mad, elderly minority, that the will of the majority is to remain and that responsible parliamentarians must come together across the house to restore sanity to the nation and deliver what all sensible people want; the Sidistes will reluctantly remain in the EU parliament so's to fight for Britain's interests. This is not at all far-fetched for while giving themselves a thirty per cent pay rise and invisible expenses they told us that WE needed Austerity and we put up with it and now we Hosannah the ShitEaters who made it all possible. Your last but one sentence is the crux of the matter; the fuckers'll be too busy eating pizza in their underpants and watching Britain's Got Toilets.
Remember the three tactics? 1) Make it sound complicated the better to confuse those whose attention span is governed by the flick of a dismissive thumb across a smartphone, 2) call it something else, 3) make them vote again. We are at 2). The entire panto has become a strawman argument, strawmen actually: hard, soft, extreme, Tory, no-deal Brexit. Support has been splintered into easy-to-manage and dismiss cliques. These are about to have a Tory candidate or two at their tops.
By the single vote of a convicted perverter of the criminal justice system "no-deal" Brexit has been "taken off the table". This, while so hugely and enjoyably symbolic that I fear future historians may slip into the poetic, means that it will take an event, a coup de theatre, to make the EU reopen the process and allow themselves too to get out. This might mean disowning the previous negotiation waltz and proposing something new. The EU being so good at "process" - by which we mean twisting and bastardising everything - they need to be taken out of it. And let's try attacking instead of defending. The bill? "We'd like to pay any exit bill based on audtited accounts, please?" (All of this requires a playing team who are actually trying to win the game but that is a thought for another day.)
I was almost pleased that Dan Hannan kept his seat. It's a communication route left to the EU centre-right coalition if anyone were to be open to trying to use it.
Ho hum. Happy days.
Thanks, mr mongoose, but please remind me of which perverter of justice you speak, there have been so many. Yes, we have no audited accounts, we have no audited accounts today, that unspeakable cunt, Kinnock, having shot the crooked accounts whistleblower. Is there no sign of him or his doxy dying of arse cancer, after a lifetime of devoted service to the poor, no prospect of millions of former Labour supporters filing past his grave and pissing on it?
I know just what you mean about Hannan, although I cannot similarly hold my nose about Annie the Virgin, just a rancid, shameless, unsafe at any speed retread, like wotsisname, Mr Christine Hamilton, how can he show his face, over there, in the sheepshaggers and colliers assembly? Mind you, Neil and Christine, Neil and Glenys, which couple would win the Whores Handicap?
Fiona Onasanya - speeding fiddle, jailed, released, tagged - voted on the Yvette Cooper bill to stop a no-deal Brexit. Which thing passed by one vote. Now "recalled" and about to be replaced at the Peterborough by-election next week, her vote no longer needed, of course.
And so the whole pious "a sovereign Parliament has voted" to protect workers, rights, badgers, the economy, a drastic Tory Brexit, [add weasel words of your choice], gig is riddled with dishonour and shame. One of God's better jokes. It has also been said, although I have been unable to confirm or otherwise, even find, the terms of her tag, that she was out and about in the HoC when she would ordinarily have had to have had her criminal self and her monitoring tag at home behind her door. A deeply and cyncially convenient turn of events that might twitch even mr tdg's antennae.
That passed me by, mr mongoose, along with much else. I simply, over a year ago, stopped partaking of the poisoned chalice which we are told to call News, some parts of the noxious draft we must call Fake and some bold and courageous and truthful, the two extremes of this spectrum being Huw Welshman, on half a million of my pounds a year from the fakers and Julian Assange, on 175 years durance vile in one of Uncle Sam's privatised torture villages for the truthers.
Is Fiona related, by any chance, to Chris Huhne-ShitEater or his mrs, Vicki Price-ShitEater? If she is we shall see her as a regular guest on Newsnight and in the briwnshirt pages of the Guardian. I wonder what happened to Chris and his tranny lover, perhaps he's joined his old toilets colleague, Nick ShitEater, in the citizen-surveillance industry.
And I meant no rudeness re mr tdg nor his antennae. His general thesis is a sound one but politics is alas a rudely organised and shoddy set of expedient conspiracies.
Yes, it's all just a dream, babe, a vacuum, a scheme, babe, that sucks you into feeling like this....
I never heard what happened to the husband of Labour's Blessed Jo, martyred at the hand of a racist Brexiteer. Did Mr Jo ever face prosecution for his noncing or did he have to endure the punishment of being moved to another charity sinecure, poor chap?
I dont own a television or radio Mr Ish, gave up years ago i cycle the blues away 2 or 3 times a day on a 62 year old racing bike....My youngest son who is very bright must take after his mother said dont listen to the news you are uninformed listen to it misinformed,,, the cycling is keeping my type2 diabetes at bay no medication yet! I in my nearly 70 years have never met an mp who was fit to polish my boots!
The establishment tactics enumerated by Mr Mongoose amount to a form of gaslighting; a political version of coercive control (from the legal lexicon of domestic abuse) - a variation on the themes of "you're really not feeling yourself, dear" and "look what you've made me do now".
Some cunt on the wireless this morning (speaking in support of Hunt) conceded that he'd accept the result of a second referendum provided it offered three choices; leave, bend over for Tracey's W.A., Remain. Was there an objection from the BBC presenter, a suggestion that splitting the Brexit options like this might conceivably leave the Remain vote unfairly advantaged? Was there fuck.
v./
Cheers fella. i'm searching for songs xx
Aye, mr walter, exercise and - well, I hate to call it diet - just sensible eating choices ( Christ, I sound like Which magazine) and Type 2 is easily reversible and by those same tokens Type 1 is much more manageable; BigFood, BigSugar, Crooked Govament and those fucking awful TellyFoody cunts, all of them, they don't give people a chance. You won't have seen the latest McDonalds advert but every single component in the burger is bad for health, bad for Starship Earth but good, I guess, for the false god of growth.
There's still some good stuff on Radio Three, fair turn your heart inside-out, it would.
In The Godfather, mr verge,mSonny Corleone's battered wife plaintively asks her mother-in-law, Mrs Godfather: Mama, did the Don ever beat you? To which the old lady replies: I never gave him cause.
It's all a bit like that. We are the chattels of Organised Crime.
Y'gotta keep searchin', searchin', mr dick........if y'gotta keep on the run, follow the Sun. Hanged himself, I think, Del Shannon. Better to find the poetry, I believe, than the song.
Y'know I took a peek at Guido Fawkeses Pizza House of Blood the other day and I coulda cried, everybody all googlesigned-in, properly, no sign of a mad, crazily ranting bastard within a hundred miles. Like here, I only ever went to order-order for the comments and now there aren't any, no mr atlas shrugged, no mr ramalamadingdong, no young stanislav, no mr 45 govt. issue. May as well read the Mail Online.
It would appear that there has been an exodus from fattie's mr I, to mr Swiss Bob's Going Postal blog, where no one reads the comments.
Tracy 'earning' more air-miles and expenses just now with our EU masters, probably giving them the lowdown on who they should nominate as their next puppet.
Yes we are all chattels of the royal house of benefit scrounging organised crime, best be rid of the fuckers and share their properties among the homeless
Ah, I know mr swiss bob, in fact, I believe I christened him SwissBob, way back, before-before, he is a cordial and helpful gentleman whom I consider a friend; I must visit and take tea.
I do it myself, mr inmate, more than most, highlighting Brenda's inbreds but she is just the visible tip of Crime's iceberg, her/our billions are peanuts. When Phil or her croaks it will be the biggest diversion of the century so far and all dissent will be postponed indefinitely, out of respect, the nation coming-together over his or her rancid corpse, united in grief. I think Huw Welshman already has the gig.He's kind of a Prince of Wales in his own right, isn't he, ten grand a week for reading lies and propaganda out-loud, in front of the class. We hanged Lord HawHaw, didn't we, for much the same thing, working for the Reich.
Food for thought Mr Ish
https://wattsupwiththat.com/2019/05/25/overpopulation-the-deadly-myth-behind-the-other-modern-myths/
I know that it was only a few days ago but Hans had a theory about population growth. We have reached, he said, "peak babies". The mechanism has an end point at 10 billion people.
https://www.ted.com/talks/hans_rosling_religions_and_babies
Also an interesting thinking for those who think religion is a factor.
Guido's place is just a revenue stream now, isn't it? All gone now. Not a word of wit to be seen. Worthless foam from the mouth.
It's all music hall - raucous, bawdy, smutty and flash, an endless double entendre, Lord Micky Grade must love it as much as he loves himself, Roy Hudd'll be drinking his own piss in delight; the fall from Tallis and Pallestrina to Britain's Got Toilets, a nation stupefied with titillation; can the Muslims do any worse, or the Chinks, when they come?
I will take magic, swirling cyber-ship immediately for those destinations, mr mongoose and mr walter
Gosh, mr inmate, that's some blog, that SwissBob one, how on Earth does he keep track of all that? It's the Swiss, I guess, he probably has a team of watchmakers, chocolatiers and tennis players, all working their balls off, Yodel-ay-eeh-oh.
Good to see you back in such fine form.
We had a bit of a tiff with old George back in 1774 about this "Royalty" scam. No love for them here other than as oddities in a musty museum. I would think that it is now more Rhuritania what with Germany calling the shots (seems like old times).
Thank you, mr mark.
He may well have suppressed Brexit but I think, mr terrapod, that Hermann has his own resistance movement to contend with, as do all the Old European states, the former USSRepublics are probably the staunchest supporters of greater Germany, which, anyway you look at it, is a bit odd, considering.
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