02 9 / 2012
28 7 / 2012
“After successfully turning myself into a minor figure of Twitter hate last night for suggesting that the opening ceremony had left-wing tones, what is there left for me to do? Who is there left to offend after getting under the skin of the wishy-washy, liberal, Guardianista, twitter based, political correctness brigade? As an insignificant Tory backbencher, annoying people on the internet is a career highlight for me. Like a really fat bloke at a premier league football match who starts swearing at his own players and manager, despite the fact no one actually cares about his opinion. Sure I might get a five minute chat on “You’re on Sky Sports” after the match where I can air my tactical wisdom. When I’m sitting at home by myself, my sixth beer in hand, watching constant re-runs of my own appearance on “YOSS”, I’ll know I’ve made it!
I thought the opening ceremony was meant to be a celebration of Britain’s history? Where was the celebration of Britain’s greatest historical triumph ever? The Great British Empire of course! It was a shame to see history trying to be rewritten by having blacks as anything other than slaves during the Victorian period! Slavery and colonisation, that’s the sort of integration I like to see! None of this mixed-race marriage nonsense where the state force blacks to marry whites in order to look good on their political correctness quotas!
Furthermore, the opening ceremony really opened my eyes to what a mess the NHS is! Now, I’ve never set foot inside an NHS hospital in my life and so I’m assuming what I saw last night was an accurate portrayal of what happens. So based entirely on that, the NHS reforms can’t come soon enough! Fuck reforms, dismantle the entire thing, I know people keep saying the Tories are trying to dismantle the NHS as a form of attack, but good! People will thank us, what bloody use are dancing nurses and trampoline beds when you’re critically ill? When I break my leg I want crutches and a cast, not fucking show tunes! Clearly the NHS is another example of left wing extravagance trying to hypnotise the poor into voting for them. The bastards.” - Aidan Burley
“One must apologise if one looked glum throughout the entire proceedings but I have a very good reason for this. I was glum, throughout the entire proceedings. I can’t believe I stopped playing Wii tennis for this rubbish! Daniel Craig convinced me it would be a fun night out, maybe have a few drinks, sing along to our favourite songs. I knew literally none of the songs! It was the worst play list ever and I’ve listened to some of Harry’s stuff. Though Harry does tend to stick more to wholesome Nazi soldier songs, he unfortunately does throw in a bit of hip-hop from time to time. When I hear the contrasts of those two types of music, I do sit back and wonder sometimes what could have been in the world. Maybe Hitler was right.
It was bad enough watching the musical which looks like it was done by the worst Britain’s Got Talent audition ever. Seriously, no one was in time and what they did could hardly be called dancing. They just waved their arms about manically like Supermarionation on speed. They then had to parade all these strange foreign countries, most of whom had names like really awful Scrabble hands. I would have cried a little each time I saw a flag walk past with a union jack in it, but fortunately my tear ducts have dried out. Philip decided to dip his tongue in wax before we arrived, to make it a little more comfortable for himself whilst he was biting it to try and keep quiet. I’m surprised he didn’t have an aneurysm keeping it all back. Oh well, at least he now has a lot of material to help the BNP launch their own Christmas crackers.” - The Queen
16 7 / 2012
05 7 / 2012
Hello friends. This is a story I wrote back when I was in year 10 for an English project, I did reasonably well in it and have thought it was a funny concept ever since. So for that reason I decided to re-write it a few days ago and am now going to publish it here. To be clear, not much is the same from the story in year 10 other than the concept. Also it’s intentionally open ended so I can add more parts on as I wish/don’t wish. The choice is entirely mine. MINE YOU HEAR!
This is a story about a bear in Britain, probably the last bear in Britain not in captivity and certainly the last magical one. This is the heart warming tale of how said bear was able to become Prime Minister of Britain using nothing more than hard work, great policies and also supernatural powers. Detractors would probably claim it was mainly the magical powers that got him into power; certainly it’s a favourite line of the opposition party. However, if you’ve naturally got abilities that seemingly go against nature then use them I say.
The bear in question was named Kingston, a name fit for the first bear Prime Minister if ever I heard one. Everyone loves an origin story and you’re probably wondering how a bear managed to become PM. So this is the story of how Kingston first managed to get into number 10 Downing Street. Well, the first time he got in there as PM anyway. He somehow managed to sneak in once pretending to be David Cameron’s cat. The guards were quickly fired and an inquiry into education standards was immediately launched since people didn’t know the difference between cats and bears.
This story begins, as so many do, in a forest where Kingston lived (and still returns to for constituency surgeries). Situated in deepest Farlomptonshire, a county created specifically to be used as a name in new fairy tales, it was a peaceful forest. The tourist industry was booming and there was a rich supply of childhood memories and nostalgia which helped fuel the economy. As long as children naively believed in fairy tales; so the tourist industry would be maintained by children bugging their parents to take them there so they can see “Cinderella”. Little did they know that Cinderella was owned by Disney along with all the other popular fairy tale princesses, so trying to find them “in the wild” in a forest in England was a pointless exercise.
Kingston had always been into politics and was never afraid to air his views in public, since he was able to talk. Kingston has always had an excellent grasp of the English language too, not only was he smarter than the average bear, he was smarter than the average human. Eventually he started to make his own political party with his friend Rocky, a talking rock monster, naturally. Whereas Kingston was able to talk due to powers neither science nor religion could explain; Rocky was the result of some unspecified radioactive material oozing over a bunch of rocks. No further explanation is needed.
The political party was named “Humans United” which was meant to create a spirit of collectivism and in it togetherness. However, it just created confusion as the only members of the party weren’t human. They believed in fairness, a free society for all, progressive taxes and generally all the other things generic left of centre parties believed in. Clearly they never actually claimed to be left of centre, they marketed themselves as being an “exciting new alternative to the old politics of left and right”.
Kingston had tried to win the Farlomptonshire North seat in the 2010 general election, coming last. There was a political scandal during the election campaign which ultimately put people off voting for him. After being interviewed for a local news channel, Kingston had left his microphone on by accident and explained in quite explicit detail what he wanted to do to the attractive female reporter and a pot of honey. They’ve since been dating for two years. Sadly for him the rest of the constituents weren’t quite as approving of their weird fetishes.
To be continued….
30 6 / 2012
29 6 / 2012