Two Camerons plumbed the depths this weekend. JC descended into The Mariana Trench, Greasy DC regurgitated the Tory Party Stench. JC was reported as being rather stiff from being in a cramped position for such a time. Greasy DC sounded like a dick as he tried to bullshit his way out of the mire.
Tory Sleaze is the dogshit of our country's politics. Like dogshit it deserves its bad press. I've seen naturalists orgasm as they pulled badger crap apart. I've been on field trips where the guides have tried to persuade me of the significance to the Universe of cow pats. TV gardeners wax lyrical about the powers of horse manure. I own a T-Shirt with bird droppings emblazoned across it. I've heard people celebrate their good fortune when a seagull crapped all over them. In contrast they go bonkers if they step on dog shit even though they are guana white in bird mess.
Because of present day Health and Safety regulations the naturalists are no longer allowed to handle badger droppings. In order to study the stomach contents of the animals to investigate their feeding habits the researchers now set up a tape recorder by their sets at night to play Greasy DC political speeches, returning in the morning to pick through what the badgers had thrown up.
Greasy DC has done a bit of a cull on my year group. The Sunday Times, the paper that provided the laxative for Greasy DC's outpourings, reckoned that 700,000 of my classmates will be worst hit by his chancellor's attack on pensioners. It's enough to make you marry an aussie cricketer.
No comments:
Post a Comment