Category: Governing the people

“F*ck business and the tax revenue and jobs that depend on it!” Boris Johnson will bumble and aaa, and err from a loudhailer today as he takes his fight to be the leader of the modern Conservative Party into London’s square mile.

The rousing speech by the Old Etonian will be delivered non-stop for several minutes from the top of an open topped battle bus with “F*ck business!” emblazoned on the side of it and parked outside of Liverpool Street train station.

The choice of location for the protest drew this inquiring tweet from his colleague Nadine Dorries. “Why park on a street in Liverpool if you want to make yourself heard in London?”

And she wasn’t alone in rounding savagely on the cyclops of British politics.

”I’ll be staging a counter protest,” Chris Grayling (MP for Failing-everything-Failing) told us, taking time out from his schedule of watching ‘Thomas the Tank Engine’ shows for research purposes.

”I won’t let Boris have the roads uncontested just when the leadership contest is about to begin,” Grayling explained, while repeatedly stabbing himself in the face with a fork, “there will be competition from hundreds of thousands of stressed out commuters finding alternative ways to get to work after mass train cancellations and my own counter protest, battle bus with ‘Fcuk planes, trains and automobiles!’ written in magic marker on the side.”

But Boris is sure to grab the most attention as he’ll be assisted by his old friend David Davis.

”Davis is back from his unofficial trip to the United States to undermine British government policy in a privateer style and he’ll be riding alongside Boris with some massive breasted woman wearing his old campaign tee shirts, the DD ones, that crack thought up by the LBC shock jock. I just hope it rains! Ha! Hoot! Hoot!”

It looks like the stage is set in central London for a fight for the very soul of everything the Tories have managed to f*ck right up.

Buried in the small print of Theresa May’s 585 page draft Brexit deal is a small detail that nobody in the UK noticed. In addition to tying the UK to EU regulations for the foreseeable future, a sub-clause provided the twist. If approved, the document will provide for prospective MPs to pass an intelligence test.

Laughing Remainers have already dubbed this the “Dorries Test”, in honour of Leave-supporting MP Nadine Dorries. Dorries recently complained that leaving the EU will mean no future representation in the EU, and once asked what the Customs Union was long after voting against it.

“Es ist ein gut choke,” giggled EU spokesman Berndt Bridges. “Ve Chermans, ze famous sense of humour haff. Ho. Ho. Ho.”

“Why did nobody tell me that Brexit means Brexit?” wailed Dorries. “It’s hard enough being a best-selling author of airport novels without having to understand about grown-up stuff like politics.”

LCD Views’ Insomnia correspondent, ‘Sleepless’ Incey Attle, bravely ploughed through the entire 585 pages, surrounded by empty coffee mugs, to confirm the detail.

“It is indeed there,” reported Attle. “The sub-clause is written in complex legalese, so as to deceive the unwary, but the gist is that any parliamentary candidate must pass a detailed intelligence test. Also, once elected, they have a probationary period of six months during which they may be removed from office without notice.”

An appendix reveals some of the sample questions. “Please give your answers in joined-up writing and using full sentences,” the rubric commences. “Do NOT write in crayon. Marks will be deducted for using vacuous slogans instead of reasoned argument.”

The sample questions include:

1. Describe, in your own words, how the Customs Union operates.
2. Explain how membership of a Union gives you a voice, and vice versa.
3. Research the maximum recommended daily consumption of kangaroo anus for an adult female.

As many continental newspapers pointed out, this is the EU’s way of imposing intellectual sanctions on the irresponsible British. Naturally, this has gone unremarked in government circles, since these papers are all written in a foreign language.

Fearless warrior for free speech and the rights of downtrodden white men, Tommy Robinson has announced that he will not be daunted by the refusal of US authorities to grant him a visa.

Having been refused a visa to visit the US on the spurious grounds that he holds a criminal record and that last time he entered the US it was using false documents Robinson has confirmed that instead he plans to join the convoy of migrants heading across Mexico to the Texas border.

“President Trump has repeatedly warned that unless he is given billions to build a wall, there is nothing that will keep them out – so that’s me sorted,” he said, adding that he wasn’t anticipating any problem slipping across the border among thousands of dark skinned Spanish speakers.

“A bit of fake tan, a dash of hasta la vista and there will probably be truckloads of democrat snowflakes waiting to carry me across manyana,” he smirked.

“A spokesman for the caravan of thousands of impoverished central  Americans walking across Mexico pointed out that as the caravan isn’t in any organised but is just an ad hoc collection of people running for their lives from poverty, conflict and famine they don’t actually have any spokespeople, but that anyway he didn’t think anyone would object to a pasty faced English speaking “gringo” joining them.

“Maybe he’ll then realise that we aren’t the evil murdering scum we have been made out to be and will spread the word once we have risked our lives smuggling him across the border,” he said.

“Then again, maybe he’s just another self publicising racist scam artist in a stupid checked suit,” he shrugged.

UKIP MEP Patrick O’Flynn had to abandon a proposed game of five-a-side after only FOUR people turned up to play.

The match was only announced shortly early in the morning, for an 11 o’clock start, which may have some bearing. It all kicked off, or rather failed to, in drizzle at the Downing Street gates. The opposition was ready to join in the fun, with 700,000 volunteers ready to play, but wouldn’t play ball and refused to lend UKIP a ringer.

“In a way, it all went totally according to plan,” said team member Maisie Dribble. “UKIP are all for pulling out of things, which is one reason why there are so few of us.”

Dribble was hopeful that a rematch could be arranged, and called off again, before too long. “We would rather play on our own,” she explained. “Instead of engaging in a union with others, we prefer to play with ourselves.”

The opposition put out a reasoned argument. “Unlike the Kippers, we have a detailed strategy,” claimed team spokesman Onmi Edson. “We attract a broad range of disciplines, but they are very unbalanced in their team selection. The Kippers are all right wingers.”

The game was to celebrate the brand new garment that the Prime Minister for the time being, Theresa May, threw over the rotting carcass of Brexit. With a theatrical flourish, she declared “It’s the Prime Minister’s new clothes, a naked Brexit, or abandon the whole sorry mess.” Amid the cheering, the scowling Kippers decided to celebrate the possibility of a dead beast to pick over with a kickabout. Except with only 80% of a team, and no backstop, the game was as dead as the Brexit dodo.

Frustrated and soggy, the vultures departed to nurse their injured pride, and to do their research by reading Roy of the Rovers.

Meanwhile, the smell of decomposing flesh could no longer be disguised as ‘Boris after a heavy night on the lash and a dodgy kebab’. The whole affair is, at long last, producing quite a stink.

In times of trouble, and in national emergencies, the country traditionally looks to a tried and tested leader of men. Therefore, Sam Allardyce is due to be appointed as interim PM.

Big Sam is expected to bang heads together. His strategy will be no nonsense Northern straight talking, no quarter given, and the return of Wayne Rooney as permanent Captain.

There is an unfriendly match coming up with the United States of Europe. Big Sam must organise his troops quickly. But he has been hampered by the loss of a number of first teamers. Star striker Dominic Raab and midfielder Esther McVey have announced their retirement from international action today. So too permanent subs Suella Braverman and some minister for NI.

There is still an immense amount of preparation before the match. Allardyce will be looking to the front, back and opposition bench for reinforcements and braving out most of the team legging it to a tax haven.

Already Sterling has taken a dive (not for reasons above). The resulting yellow card has ruled him out of action.

Defeat looks inevitable, with no defence to speak of. Allardyce is no longer able to rely on shoehorning Irish players into the team.

Former players griping from the sidelines add to Big Sam’s problems. “Put up or shut up,” he allegedly said, so JRM did, which is why Sam finds himself unexpectedly facing into the abyss once more.

Although Jeremy Hunt has pledged to stay by Sam’s side, which has given about as much comfort as discovering the team’s dentist is Michael Gove.

The match has drawn unprecedented interest from obsessive fans. The game is anticipated to involve the entire team being offside, and many own goals being scored, definitely more than any scored in the opposition net (they’ll take care of that themselves too).

In related news, Wembley has already sold out of popcorn as fans settle in for the long game. More on this story as it illegally tackles the big game of British politics.

News is breaking all over the place, and perhaps irreparably today, that a mass order of dummies is heading for Westminster to help pacify MPs.

”The House of Commons is in a right state,” HoC crèche supervisor, Mrs Mollify told LCD Views exclusively, “I do hope the dummies are red, white and blue. The ToryKip and RedKip members will spit them immediately if they aren’t.”

The reason for the emergency bulk order is the release of the fudge Withdrawal Deal stitched up between Ms May and the EU.

”The EU have put up with the tantrums, bullying and lying for a long time. They just want our load of full diaper screeching big toddlers out the door now,” Mrs Mollify said, “and I can hardly blame them. A more entitled bunch of little shits I’ve not had to care for in all my days at the mother of parliaments. It really does make you wonder about the indulgent nature of modern parenting. Bit of strap would see a lot of them right. Although, considering the Tory ones, that’s probably just what they like! It would only encourage them!”

Whether or not the mass of dummies will pacify the MPs is anyone’s guess though.

”It might shut them up for a few minutes at least,” Mrs Mollify observes, “well, at least until they realise getting what you’ve been kicking off for isn’t guaranteed to make you happy when you see what the 27 other kids without a Withdrawal agreement, but with certainty over current and future trading circumstances, and rights for citizens, have. That’s when the foot stamping will really get going.”

Do you have any advice for the Brexit kids on the day they’re getting what they want?

”Be careful what you wish for,” Mrs Mollify advises, “you may just get it and it may not be what you really wanted after all.”

It sounds like the pacifiers aren’t the only load of dummies at Westminster.

The once influential firebrand is the latest irrelevance to try and resurrect a flagging career. Jeremy Corbyn feels that his experience of pre-EC Britain will be vital in the post-Brexit waste.

“This is in no way like a rock star past retirement age undertaking a reunion tour,” said Corbyn’s publicist, Selby Date. “There will be past glories, yes, but a completely fresh and modern set of rehashed facsimiles masquerading as innovation.”

The Invisible Man Tour will see Corbyn phone up any of his old buddies from Socialist Worker days who still have a pulse. “He will visit all the old haunts,” explained Date. “Old mining communities will be told how the ghastly prosperity of the last 40 years is down to the EU’s so-called caring capitalism. Jeremy knows these people. He knows that they much prefer to be miserable and downtrodden.”

Former coal miner Davie Lamp agreed. “The pit was my entire life,” he says. “It was dismal, dangerous work, and even worse when we stopped arguing about pay and conditions to dig for coal.”

Lamp is excited about the Corbyn renaissance. “At last we can get back to being an insular, isolated community with an impenetrable accent,” he declared proudly. “Shops will close early on Wednesday, women will scrub the front step, the nippers will all have rickets by the age of six. We will go on strike and spend our dole money on beer and fags. It’s what made Britain great!”

Corbyn’s return from self-imposed hibernation will mean a triumphant return to the chaos and poverty of the seventies. “That’s the dream,” confirms Date. “And the democratic, elected EU, or EC, or ERG, or whatever the hell it’s called this week, can stuff its reasonable benevolence in its pipe and smoke it, if they haven’t completely banned smoking yet.”

So, former workers rise up and fight for your right to die young and in agony. As Corbyn didn’t sing, you don’t get me, I’m part of the European Union.

No, not that Johnson. The other one. The one who isn’t Boris.

BoJo’s baby brother blatantly bashed Brexit by blasting Theresa May’s latest pathetic “plan”. “I can’t support that load of old bollocks,” he said frankly. “I could quite honestly have belched a better strategy. And no, you may not call me ‘JoJo’!”

This leaves Jo Johnson in a tricky position. He is at odds with his media whore brother, his rent-a-gob sister and celebrity wannabe father. “They are no longer speaking to me,” he comments. “By displaying principles, I have betrayed the family motto ‘Nunquam Vere Dicam’. It’s quite a relief, let me tell you!”

Johnson junior joins the slow but steady trickle of MPs now opposing Brexit. Some, like Johnson, because it is clearly rubbish. Others, because their vision of modern feudalism is evaporating before their eyes.

“His Lordship is appalled at the state of affairs!” grovels Bowen Scrape, spokesflunkey of Jacob Rees-Mogg. “His Brexit Dividend of thousands of tied villeins tithing him fifty percent of everything they produce is collapsing faster than you can say Carillon.”

Conspiracy theories abound connecting lunatic politics in the UK and the USA with Russia. Dirty trickster Oskar Sczeremony claims to know the truth. “I can disclose that Vladimir Putin is not a happy bunny,” he reports. “British pragmatism is destroying his plan much too soon. If things don’t change soon, you will suddenly discover that Jeremy Corbyn makes sexist remarks, and there will be a steady flow of Russians eager to visit Salisbury Cathedral.”

Meanwhile Brexit can continue to limp towards the finish line. It’s classic misdirection. “Four months of looking elsewhere, is that too much to ask?” moans Sczeremony. “After 29 March, who gives a shit? But the Johnson brothers have ruined everything. We’d have gotten away with it if it weren’t for those meddling kids!”

That’s what they are. A pair of Johnsons.

Comrade Nigel Farage, Russian ambassador to Little England, gave much needed support today to the Downing Street plan to place all British fish in protective custody, on land, to ensure they aren’t stolen by Brussels during the closing stages of Brexit negotiations.

”I wasn’t awarded the award of the Hero of the Russian Federation because I wasn’t deeply concerned about British fish,” Farage told listeners to his breakfast programme, ‘A little dose of fash and cash’ on seriously confused broadcaster LBC today, “and my in-depth knowledge tells me that the traitor Ms May is finally seeing sense about how to protect British fishing and not have the entire industry stolen by the thugs in Brussels when it more properly should be bundled off and sold to the highest overseas bidder under the noses of indepdent operators at home.”

Under plan, said to be the brainchild of Environment Secretary Michael Gove and a hell of a lot of wishful thinking, all British fish will be written to by the Home Office and ordered to immediately present themselves for safekeeping at a British port.

The fish will then be transported to specially built dry land holiday camps, where they will wait out the reminder of Brexit negotiations and the construction of the deep water wall to be built around the British isles once we have successfully reclaimed our waters from the tyrants across the Channel.

”Lock them up!” Nigel “the rouble” Farage exalted his rapt listener, “and then throw away the key! See what Juncker makes of that!”

Fresh denials today from government that the total and complete fracking of Westminster politics by secretly funded “thinktanks” has anything to do with the earthquakes currently fracking the UK’s political landscape.

”The fact that politics is the United Kingdom are now so fracked a government drone like Secretary for Health Apps, little Matty Handoncock (MP – UKIP), can say with a straight face the government is stockpiling fridges to stockpile life saving, short shelf life medicines they won’t be able to import anyway,

”because they’re insisting private industry pays the cost and takes the risk, after spending years telling private industry to frack itself,

“and then gagging private industry so it can’t say how fracked we are, and we’ve no time to build production capacity in country before calamity, none of this has anything to do with the fracking of British politics by obscurely funded thinktanks, given democratic names to help their insidious creep across our political landscape, ideological fracking rigs in hand, like a mash up of the red weed from ‘War of the Worlds’ and a stealthy fascist takeover,” said a government spokesman appointed to speak for Downing Street by the Taxpayers Alliance, which conversely is against all taxpaying, because it’s much better to have a feudal political landscape.

But while that clarification clears way for the secretly funded thinktanks to continue their work of being the creeping damp and dry rot and fungal infections of our politics, it doesn’t explain how we arrived at a political earthquake on the scale of Brexit. Absolutely nothing at all to do with the links of serving MPs and rightwing thinktanks. Nothing at all.

So the search will go on to explain how Westminster came to experience unceasing earthquakes and if we don’t find the cause we’re all going to get fracked, really deep and really hard.

”It’s got nothing to do with the fracking thinktanks,” the TPA appointed government spokesman reiterated. Indeed.