Thursday, 22 September 2016

Keith Vaz fiddles while his balls burn.

Everyone knew that Keith Vaz has an unquenchable lust for publicity, not so many realised he has an equally passionate liking for rent boys, preferably in pairs, but unlike at Tesco’s I doubt he gets two for the price of one, or any discount as a frequent user.
The first question is what was he playing at although one can guess what it was he was playing with, the man is definitely getting above his station. Vaz born in Yemen came to our shores at an early age, and yet here he is carrying on as if he were a Bullingdon Club Tory toff, the man is a Labour MP for gawd’s sake, if anything he should have been screwing the cleaning lady who could then have sold her story to the Sunday newspapers. Satisfaction all round. A life on the bum is OK in certain social circles, but those realms are far above what Vaz could legitimately aspire to. Had he fiddled around at the back of the bus shelter, there may have been leeway for social redemption, but no, he had to perform his version of the buggers opera a flat he happened to have going spare, who did the pretentious sod think he was? Tony Blair? Who at least had the good taste to have a rumble with Murdoch’s missus, but as she is a woman Vaz would have undoubtedly found something missing.
As a former chairman of a committee investigating vice, out hero has garnered invaluable insight into areas others are not party to, but was it necessary to plumb such depths? Work experience is one thing, but blowing a rent boys trumpet is surely a toot too far.

Hey diddle diddle, Keith Vaz had a fiddle,
With two rent boys who trousered the cash,
He buggerd them rough,
Until all had enough,
Then went down with the clap and a rash

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