Tuesday 11 February 2014

Scameron’s Kingdom a Wet Dream

In this morning’s ‘Enhanced Bullshit’ edition we bring you the latest and greatest in scandal-mongering hot gossip from Anarchy Central’s 24/7 Truth & Rumour Mill – with dispatches hand forged and crafted into bespoke satire to tempt the palates of all budding nihilists and career revolutionaries who carry the immortal bloodline of the rebel sons of Belial.

The Con-Dem coalition’s dog n pony show has gone into Silver Command status with Posh Dave Scameron and his millionaire cabinet of public school fudgers and kiddie fiddling Freemasons ensconced in the Downing Street’s underground ‘Cobra Command’ fuhrer-bunker – safe from the rising waters of Father Thames behind a mighty revetment of sandbags and bundles of Atos ‘Fit 2 Work’ health assessment rejection forms – and too the easing tide of rage brewing amongst the entire voting demographic of the south-west ‘Hardy Country’ quadrant of our once-sceptred isle – all of whom are ‘literally’ up shit creek without a paddle – or a fucking boat for that matter.

Quite laughable that Scameron is shitting kittens over the pre-ordained outcome of September's Scottish independence referendum when Alex Salmond’s corruption-ridden SNP government intend to give Westminster and the Queen the big finger and go it alone with their JockMark / fried Mars bar-based economy – a move that will obviously diminish Posh Dave’s national fiefdom and too the coveted cash flow into the Westminster Chancellor’s piggy bank.

Scameron, sobbing into an onion-scented hankie proffered by Downing Street’s chief PR troll, Scabby Bertin, confided to gutter press hacks that he could not bear to see the UK torn apart by a power-hungry bunch of Scottish nonces – when the entire south of England is staring to look like the water margins of China – or the Philippines Hundred Islands – and road fund license will have to be substituted with a ‘canoe tax’ – and the VAT on wellies and waders upped to 25%.

So the long knives are out around the House of Conmans and the faction-infested Shitehall civil service – with venom-tipped acrimony the order of the day as every fucker and their dog is blamed for this act of God / force majeure (HAARP?) flooding phenomenon – ‘and’ more to the point, the lack of foresight by governments past and present in not doing this, that and / or the other to prevent or belay the devastation – even down to suggestions that the Met Office and Defra should have got their heads together back in May of 2010 and started building Biblical scale arks.

To add insult to injury and serving to confirm the fact that the Tories have no fucking chance of getting re-elected in 2015 (hey – they never got a majority vote in 2010) we have the likes of the Nasty Party’s Minister for Social Misery, Iain Dunkin Shit, arrogantly opining to gutter press hacks that these people should be able to swim – or have saved up for a life jacket when Broken Britain’s economy was in a better state of repair.

Then we have the badger-hating, fracking / GM Frankenfood industry’s main lobbyist, Defra Minister Owen ‘Shiny Shoes’ Paterson turning up in Bridgewater last weekend for a quick look at what all the fuss and whingeing is about around the Somerset Levels – in a pair of his best polished loafers.

Really, this tosspot hasn’t the common decency or brownie points / man-of-the-people’ nuance to wear a pair of galoshers and have a paddle around doing the glad-handing bit and dishing out sympathy (like his boss ‘Hi-Viz Dave’) – but visited a bird sanctuary instead – which compiled the insult to injury factor by the power of ten squared as instead of forking out the required £5 million quid to dredge the now-offending River Styx, they blew a total of £31 million nicker to build a bird sanctuary at the mouth of the Polly Parrot River.

Well, that little visit will earn the smarmy git a brownie points nod from the RSPCB for sure - and perhaps win a few votes from the Twitcher’s corner – but seal the fate of his now-blighted ‘Flappy Bird’ political career.
Typical of Farmer Owen – an utterly hopeless case who won’t even act on behalf of sexually abused special needs / disabled children in his own North Slopshire constituency – Google ‘Hollie Greig Scandal’.
Owen’s a total embarrassment, an archetype arrogant, smug Tory tosser. A twat you can take anywhere ‘twice’ – the second time to apologise.

Paterson’s contribution to the ‘Don’t Vote Tory’ sentiment was equally compounded by the ridiculous Communities Secretary Eric ‘Porky’ Pickles, bloated out of all proportion from his latest intake of lunchtime swill in the Parliament’s canteen, who had a break from doing his Jabba the Hutt impersonation to pontificate on shit he knows sweet fuck all about - opining to press hacks that “Talk about a dowry of parmy, even Noah didn’t get this much rain. But it might be seen by Somerset residents with wet feet as a failing on the part of local government authorities when the truth lies with circumstances beyond our control – force majeure, as the French president said when his regular live-in shag found out he had a bit on the side – and when these West Country yokel heather types haven’t been saying their prayers and going to church, and God turns against you - then what the hell is the government expected to do?”

Then to put the fatal cap on a thoroughly bad week in the opinion polls, Posh Dave’s Immigration Minister 'Muddled-Mark' Harper, the Tory MP for Firewood Forest, has tactically resigned from his post after it was exposed he was in the habit of hiring below-minimum wage ‘illegal immigrant’ pikey cleaners.

Hence not only is ‘Bunker Dave’ Scameron thwarted at every turn by his own inept cabinet ministers and their collective faux pas – but by Divine Intervention playing a hand in presenting problems his government are ill-equipped to cope with - a Biblical deluge.

Allergy warning: This article was composed in a known propaganda-infested area and whilst purposely blending slanderous comments and unbridled conjecture with wild rumour and hard facts, may also contain traces of slight exaggeration, modest porkies, misaligned references and lashings of bush telegraph innuendo.

Rusty’s Skewed News Views (Purveyors of Bespoke Satire) - enhanced with a modest touch of Yeast Logic and a piquant dash of Political Incorrectness: a news sheet and media source not owned by Rupert Murdoch and the Masonic Zionist kikester lobby, committed to the relay of open source information – and immune from litigation under the statutes of the ‘Fair Comment in the Public Interest’ defence.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Yeah, Farmer Owen's photo-op went totally tits up when he arrived in his Sunday best and a pair of black chisel toes. Wot a knob.

wiggins said...

The whole shit-house goverment are being exposed - by the minute....

http://www.eureferendum.com/blogview.aspx?blogno=84683

Anonymous said...

They are all bloody knobs. We got to hand it to Dave; there was a disaster in Tory heartland. When a cellar at Eton took in a little water he dispatched the military to help. Not only a knob: a giant dick!

Anonymous said...

Dave and his "money is no object"!
Tell that to the people living in Christchurch, where the council charges their inhabitants for sandbags. £30 for 4. What a fucking bargain! And of course, a MP that refuses to visit.
http://www.bournemouthecho.co.uk/news/11006229.County_bludgeoned_by_gale_force_winds/?ref=var_0

Fletch said...

Yep, money's no object - in hindsight of course - now the proverbial shit (floating atop the deluge) has hit the fan.
If money was no fucking object then why didn't they fork out the £5 million quid to dredge the Somerset Levels river courses as requested by the people who know what needs to be done - and blew £30 million nicker on a bird sanctuary instead - on the same bit of land where birds have been finding 'sanctuary' since the dawn of time.

Connor said...

There's an old Chinese proverb that states if you sit by a river long enough you'll see the dead bodies of all your enemies drift by.
Perhaps this could apply to a swathe of Tory MPs alike - they can watch the prospects of being re-elected rushing off downstream at a goodly rate of knots.