Downing Street sources have privately admitted that the Prime Minister has locked himself in the toilet and is refusing to come out, after hearing that US President Barack Obama shared a breakfast with Tony Blair yesterday.
“Gordon is presently devoting himself to issues that require his full and undivided attention,” a sweating spin doctor told reporters, speaking over the sobs issuing from a frosted first-storey window.
However, a confidential source told the Nev Filter that Mr Brown has been feeling increasingly isolated and vulnerable over the past few weeks.
“First he started whining about being seen as the ‘Minister for the Recession’,” said the exhausted policy wonk. “Quite apart from the fact that it was largely caused by his lax regulation of the money markets in the first place, you might think perhaps he’d realise that the buck ultimately stops at the PM’s desk - but no, apparently not.
“Then he got rather peeved at the International Monetary Fund’s dire forecast for Britain’s economic prospects, and stamped around Switzerland all last weekend, grabbing people by the arm and telling them that it was the IMF who had the problem, not him.
“Then he spent so long on the phone yesterday, yelling abuse at Nicolas Sarkozy for telling the whole of France that Britain’s VAT cuts had made bugger-all difference, that he completely missed the initial reports of Mr Obama’s breakfast meeting with That Man Whose Name We Don’t Mention. Of course, we didn’t dare tell him. So when he read about it in the Daily Mail this morning, he threw his Quaker Oats on the floor and ran off to the lavatory in floods of tears. We’ve tried telling him that at least Jeremy Clarkson has apologised for calling him one-eyed and Scottish, but he still refuses to come out.”
The deeply-upset PM is understood to have posted his sorry tale of woe on the internet via Facebook Mobile, where he has been receiving messages of spurious emotional support from his friends.
Those Facebook Comments In Full
Gordon Brown ‘s had enuf the bastuds all hat eme!!!!.
Miliband One at 10:58 on 7 February
wats up hun
Gordon Brown at 10:59 7 February via Facebook Mobile
barack had brakefest with THAT MAN hes onley spok to me for 5 minits on the fone the bastud i thot he luvd me i wish i was ded no 1 likes me
Mad Jack at 12:04 on 7 February
o’bamers a 2timin bich yr betr off without im babe xxxx hugs
Lord Mandy at 12:44 7 February via Twitter
if there sharin brekfast u no wot that menes dont u!!! lol
David Blunkett at 13:30 on 7 February
sarcosies no beter he shud sort out his own cuntrey frist giv me a call if u need me tho not rite away im a bizzy shagin the missis rite now *winks*
David ’Dave’ Cameron at 14:06 7 February via Twitter
sory to be harsh gord but its for yr own good its always got 2B about u init you must of got problams in the bed dept or sumfin no wot i mean mate imao you jus need a bludy good shaftin wy not call an election lmao
Saturday, 7 February 2009
Friday, 6 February 2009
Royal Tour Hit By Ongoing Philip Outburst
Buckingham Palace has announced that a forthcoming royal tour has been cancelled, as a furious Prince Philip is still showing no sign of faltering in a prolonged racist rant which has been continuing without pause since the announcement that a royal souvenir shop was withdrawing its stock of golliwogs from sale.
“We can’t very well send the Queen and her consort abroad while he’s bellowing about ‘nig-nogs’ and ‘little black Sambos’,” admitted a red-faced palace spokesman. “Never mind a diplomatic incident - the way he’s going on, he could start a war.”
Meanwhile, the BBC is facing mounting criticism over its decision to remove Carol Thatcher from The One Show after she made a ‘golliwog’ remark in the show’s green room.
“What on earth is all this fuss about?” demanded one irate viewer, who happened to be white. “Whatever happened to the good old days, when golliwogs used to be the much-loved trademark of Robertson’s Jam? I was rather partial to a large dollop on one of Mr Hitler’s Exceedingly Patronising Wog Cakes.”
“And why can’t you get Botha’s Darkie Chocolate anywhere these days?“ he added. “It’s just political correctness gone mad, I tell you.”
“We can’t very well send the Queen and her consort abroad while he’s bellowing about ‘nig-nogs’ and ‘little black Sambos’,” admitted a red-faced palace spokesman. “Never mind a diplomatic incident - the way he’s going on, he could start a war.”
Meanwhile, the BBC is facing mounting criticism over its decision to remove Carol Thatcher from The One Show after she made a ‘golliwog’ remark in the show’s green room.
“What on earth is all this fuss about?” demanded one irate viewer, who happened to be white. “Whatever happened to the good old days, when golliwogs used to be the much-loved trademark of Robertson’s Jam? I was rather partial to a large dollop on one of Mr Hitler’s Exceedingly Patronising Wog Cakes.”
“And why can’t you get Botha’s Darkie Chocolate anywhere these days?“ he added. “It’s just political correctness gone mad, I tell you.”
Clarkson Executed For Insulting Our Great Leader
The notorious dissident Jeremy Clarkson has been brought back to the UK and hanged today for the heinous crime of making disparaging remarks about the glorious father of our nation.
Clarkson - a pathological deviant with a deplorable history of thought-crimes - shocked the world yesterday by calling Gordon Brown a “one-eyed Scottish idiot” during an interview in Australia. Acting with commendable zeal, the brave MI5 covert-surveillance team assigned to Clarkson promptly seized him as he returned to his hotel, and sent him back to Britain in a diplomatic bag to face the richly-deserved reward for his hate-filled reactionary outburst.
A portable gallows was set up at the airport where, to the continuous cheers of patriotic citizens, a subdued and sullen Clarkson was subjected to prolonged denunciations by leading members of the Scottish Labour Party for several hours before finally being dragged up to the scaffold to meet his well-earned fate.
His pathetic corpse was then dragged though the streets behind a Bugatti Veyron driven by a triumphant PM. It is currently being cut into quarters, which will be placed on public display in Edinburgh, Glasgow, Dundee and Aberdeen.
“No longer will our great nation have to put up with the disloyal ravings of this deranged madman,” proclaimed Scotttish Labour MP Jim Dour. “Our great prime minister may well be a one-eyed idiot, but there was no need to remind anyone he’s a Scot. Er… whoops.”
The treacherous Dour was instantly manhandled into a pillory by party officials and pelted with rotten vegetables by enraged citizens.
Clarkson - a pathological deviant with a deplorable history of thought-crimes - shocked the world yesterday by calling Gordon Brown a “one-eyed Scottish idiot” during an interview in Australia. Acting with commendable zeal, the brave MI5 covert-surveillance team assigned to Clarkson promptly seized him as he returned to his hotel, and sent him back to Britain in a diplomatic bag to face the richly-deserved reward for his hate-filled reactionary outburst.
A portable gallows was set up at the airport where, to the continuous cheers of patriotic citizens, a subdued and sullen Clarkson was subjected to prolonged denunciations by leading members of the Scottish Labour Party for several hours before finally being dragged up to the scaffold to meet his well-earned fate.
His pathetic corpse was then dragged though the streets behind a Bugatti Veyron driven by a triumphant PM. It is currently being cut into quarters, which will be placed on public display in Edinburgh, Glasgow, Dundee and Aberdeen.
“No longer will our great nation have to put up with the disloyal ravings of this deranged madman,” proclaimed Scotttish Labour MP Jim Dour. “Our great prime minister may well be a one-eyed idiot, but there was no need to remind anyone he’s a Scot. Er… whoops.”
The treacherous Dour was instantly manhandled into a pillory by party officials and pelted with rotten vegetables by enraged citizens.
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Monday, 2 February 2009
Record Shitstorms Engulf London
Britain completely ceased to function today, as the worst shitstorm in the world, ever, buried London and the home counties under an impassable carpet of brown.
Trains, buses, aircraft, cars, mobility scooters and unicycles foolhardy enough to attempt any kind of journey skidded uncontrollably into mangled heaps of twisted metal, condemning their hapless users to a lingering death involving frostbite, polar bears and cannibalism.
At a deserted Broadcasting House, only brave breakfast TV presenters Bill Bloke, Token Bird and a nerd from Radio 5 in a borrowed suit managed to struggle into a studio, and spent the day wrapped in blankets and interviewing each other, telling the shit-bound nation to put its affairs in order and accept its awful fate, and repeating the same clip of some arse in a Merc SLK ordering the shivering proles of central London to push his slithering posemobile to Richmond.
Councils across the important part of the country said they had tried their hardest to clear the shitdrifts from the roads, but their entire annual budgets had been used up in the first 5 picoseconds of the shite-out.
Train and tube operators apologised for the widespread delays and cancellations - pointing out that, since privatisation, there were now only four shitplough-equipped engines in Britain, which would remain stuck in Scotland until legal experts could decide which of the 100-plus rail-industry companies was actually responsible for them.
Firms in the City rang their valued professional staff and told them not to put themselves to any inconvenience by trying to get to work, then warned their minimum-wage cleaners that if they weren’t in by nine at the latest, they would be sent back to the agency and replaced by Poles who were used to this kind of thing.
“And their pay will be docked for every minute they miss, too,” added HR consultant Penelope Pincher, speaking from her cosy home office in the shitty wastes of Greenwich.
Meanwhile, the sub-class of primitive Britons who live north of Watford scratched their hoary heads and got on with eking out their miserable lives, as they do whenever the weather is shit.
“Since half of these soft southern pansies are so bloody proud of their great big 4x4s, why don’t they just give a lift to their neighbours who bought huge people carriers instead?” said one bemused Lancashire caveman with a shovel.
Speaking from cold but sunny Exeter, a Met Office spokesman forecast more shit spreading out from the south-east for the next few days.
Trains, buses, aircraft, cars, mobility scooters and unicycles foolhardy enough to attempt any kind of journey skidded uncontrollably into mangled heaps of twisted metal, condemning their hapless users to a lingering death involving frostbite, polar bears and cannibalism.
At a deserted Broadcasting House, only brave breakfast TV presenters Bill Bloke, Token Bird and a nerd from Radio 5 in a borrowed suit managed to struggle into a studio, and spent the day wrapped in blankets and interviewing each other, telling the shit-bound nation to put its affairs in order and accept its awful fate, and repeating the same clip of some arse in a Merc SLK ordering the shivering proles of central London to push his slithering posemobile to Richmond.
Councils across the important part of the country said they had tried their hardest to clear the shitdrifts from the roads, but their entire annual budgets had been used up in the first 5 picoseconds of the shite-out.
Train and tube operators apologised for the widespread delays and cancellations - pointing out that, since privatisation, there were now only four shitplough-equipped engines in Britain, which would remain stuck in Scotland until legal experts could decide which of the 100-plus rail-industry companies was actually responsible for them.
Firms in the City rang their valued professional staff and told them not to put themselves to any inconvenience by trying to get to work, then warned their minimum-wage cleaners that if they weren’t in by nine at the latest, they would be sent back to the agency and replaced by Poles who were used to this kind of thing.
“And their pay will be docked for every minute they miss, too,” added HR consultant Penelope Pincher, speaking from her cosy home office in the shitty wastes of Greenwich.
Meanwhile, the sub-class of primitive Britons who live north of Watford scratched their hoary heads and got on with eking out their miserable lives, as they do whenever the weather is shit.
“Since half of these soft southern pansies are so bloody proud of their great big 4x4s, why don’t they just give a lift to their neighbours who bought huge people carriers instead?” said one bemused Lancashire caveman with a shovel.
Speaking from cold but sunny Exeter, a Met Office spokesman forecast more shit spreading out from the south-east for the next few days.
Current Generation of Children Desperately In Need of Love, iMacs and This Week’s Manchester United Strip, Says Report
A two-year survey by the Children’s Society has found that - despite having more of everything than any previous generation - today’s children remain tragically unhappy, viciously aggressive and horribly prone to mental illness, and lays the blame squarely at the feet of selfish parents.
“It’s all the fault of these wicked women,” said one of the report’s authors, Percy Fossil. “The damned whores insist on having their own precious careers, instead of spending their lives chained to the kitchen table with a child clamped to each nipple as the good Lord intended.”
According to the survey, the children of today are relentlessly bombarded with advertisements for costly material goods as they absorb a non-stop diet of violent television and internet porn. They are also forced into comparing the finely-sculpted features of pampered celebrities with their own hideous, potato-like faces - leading to a total collapse in self-confidence which inevitably spirals into depression, self-harming and constant demands for increasingly-expensive consumer products to deflect their feelings of utter inadequacy.
Meanwhile, their uncaring parents selfishly work all the hours of the day to buy their traumatised offspring more and more things they don’t need in order to gain a brief respite from their never-ending whiny demands – and then spend up to four selfish hours a night asleep, cruelly ignoring the tragic plight of their children.
“I’ve tried so hard to love my kids, really I have,” wept one woman as she selfishly pursued her career at the checkout in Morrison’s. “But it’s just so hard sometimes. Only this morning they stamped on the Playstation 3 and told me they’ll cut themselves and call the social if I don’t come home tonight with a MacBook Air.”
“It’s all the fault of these wicked women,” said one of the report’s authors, Percy Fossil. “The damned whores insist on having their own precious careers, instead of spending their lives chained to the kitchen table with a child clamped to each nipple as the good Lord intended.”
According to the survey, the children of today are relentlessly bombarded with advertisements for costly material goods as they absorb a non-stop diet of violent television and internet porn. They are also forced into comparing the finely-sculpted features of pampered celebrities with their own hideous, potato-like faces - leading to a total collapse in self-confidence which inevitably spirals into depression, self-harming and constant demands for increasingly-expensive consumer products to deflect their feelings of utter inadequacy.
Meanwhile, their uncaring parents selfishly work all the hours of the day to buy their traumatised offspring more and more things they don’t need in order to gain a brief respite from their never-ending whiny demands – and then spend up to four selfish hours a night asleep, cruelly ignoring the tragic plight of their children.
“I’ve tried so hard to love my kids, really I have,” wept one woman as she selfishly pursued her career at the checkout in Morrison’s. “But it’s just so hard sometimes. Only this morning they stamped on the Playstation 3 and told me they’ll cut themselves and call the social if I don’t come home tonight with a MacBook Air.”
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