Tuesday, 11 August 2009


What is he talking about, I can hear you say. Gordon Brown is, was and always will be a wanker, talk about taking coals to Newcastle, you might as well take Gordon to charm school for all the good it would do or difference it would make. Let me break off from my narrative to illustrate a point. This rant was inspired by a piece I read in the Sunday Times, not that I often read the rag, I just buy it to impress the neighbours and fool them into thinking I am an intellectual, but yesterday I gave it a brief glance, and lo and behold, pay dirt. Now, at this point it is important to remember that journalists writing for posh papers, and the Sunday Times is posh, despite being owned by Rupert Murdoch, do not tell porkies unless they are absolutely certain they will not be found out.
The article was about two towns one in Austria, and the other in Germany, well it was not so much about the towns as their names. The town in Germany is called Wank. As soon as I read that I thought of dear Gordon, face like a slapped arse and lying through his teeth while planning to extradite British citizens for offending the Yanks. The town should adopt Gordon, he could then officially be called the First Wanker, think of the election slogans, placards bearing the legend, “Wank For Brown”. It would be a hard life but our Gordon could Survive and thrive in such an atmosphere. Imagine a night in the Wankers Arms, all standing around the Wurlitzer, necking pints of jiz and belting out the town anthem, “Gordon had a wank, Gordon had a wank, ee eye adio, Gordon had a wank” Brings tears to my eyes it does.
Now to the next town mentioned in the article, this one is in Austria, now you may be offended by this, but frankly my dears I do not give a f…, yes, got it in one you clever wankers, the place is called Fuck. Harriet Harman came to mind, I have always felt the sanctimonious man hating bitch should go to fuck, and, bugger me blind on a Thursday, there it is, slap bang in Hitler’s own country, waiting for her with open legs. Harriet would be a promotional gold mine for them. They could have a lovely line in tasteless hats bearing pictures of Hattie, along with the legend “Fuck Me Quick” Just think what that would do for the local economy and they could have a local fair called Fuckers of the World Unite, it would knock spots off The Salzburg Festival, who would want Mozart when you could have Harriet and a good fuck.
But now, little sadness creeps into our jollifications, there is no place in this narrative for Peter Mandelson, you remember him, how could you forget the prick, Lord Mandelson of Cleethorpes, Wigan Pier, Bombay and Tonypandy. Please believe me when I tell you that I have scoured the atlas, with unbearable intensity, but nowhere, nowhere at all can I find a town called poof.