Wednesday, 27 May 2009

Hungarian Asparagus Pickers

I can't believe it's been five years since the last European MP elections, where does the thyme go? Surely there must be a way that we can have you-are-peeing elections every year. Let's have a website poll, we could vote every week! Yaaayyy!

It's called Sarcasm according to the bitchikers excuse for a dictionary. Invented in 1066 when Harold said to Norman "Frankly, I don't see your point".

But surely now is a good time for me to pick up my election campaign trail again. The elections start on 4th June, I'll probably be back from some jaunt somewhere and fit in the votey bit between EXPENSE CLAIMS.

Just a minute, what about the Max Mosely? Should we make it legal to get five hookers in Nazi Uniforms on a sex weekend? I think we should, actually it's already legal, he didn't go to jail for it. The surprising thing is that more people don't do it. See, this feels right.

I want to make a law that let's married empee's shag hookers if it's on expenses. As an unelected citizen I believe it is my duty to put forward the needs of ordinary empee's and stop this blatant empeephobia which is staining our coastline. Or border. By border I mean sovereignty, pride. By pride I mean shirts, those coloured shirts with white collars and cuffs that Frenchmen wear.

If a man is a confessed alcoholic he should be allowed to drive drunk. This is obvious, he's confessed. Some people like to flash their expensive cars around wine bars and then they have to get home (to their second home with a tart). It is possible to be an alcoholic and keep down a job in politics, that's why stopping drink driving is anti-empee. Anything that's "anti" is bad, read the papers. Except anti-Nazi, unless it's a hooker in a party costume.

Back to the point though, I want to be Member of the You-Are-Peeing Parliament and I think it's going to take a step more than the mundane theiving and cheating of national politicians, here's the fucking plan:

First I'm going to get a cat, then I'm going to train the cat to swig vodka out of a bottle in a paper bag. Then I'm going to give him my loyalty card from Chez Fernand kebab shop. Once they get to know him down there I'll show the cat how to get two people on the metro on one ticket - it's not hard. Next I'll teach the cat to play guitar, mow the lawn and write wordy powerpoint shows that meander on for days without saying anything. Then I'll leave the cat in my office with "Project Management for Dummy's Cats" and just slink off into the distance.

I wake up on a south pacific island beach and it's better than winning the lottery, I don't have any money but I don't need it either, beauty.

Wait, that's a shit plan. Is it that em-ee-pees are all corrupt motherfucker's or is that all corrupt motherfucker's are emeepees? That's one of those trick population distribution questions that you need to draw a venn diagram for. I'll give you a hint; whichever way it works out, if you're a politician you are going to get your arse kicked no matter what you do. It's like being an insurance salesman or a twat. So the best thing to do is make lots of noise about people's rights while secretly hiving off tons of cash for the inevitable "early retirement".

So, can I count on your vote? No I won't kiss your baby, fuck-off.

Darn it, I almost had it in the bag. I think that baby thing blew it right at the end. Let's spend the rest of the budget on a huge election night party! Yaay!



Zed said...

Well, I was almost following you... - where's the party?

Joliet Jake said...

TONIGHT!! at the Hairy Canairy. We can watch the Champions League final while we're at it