The Curmudgeon

YOU'LL COME FOR THE CURSES. YOU'LL STAY FOR THE MUDGEONRY.

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Last Rah-Rah

Britain's outgoing Head Boy has chaired his final Cabinet meeting before toddling off to spend more time with the wages of his pater's tax-dodging. With his usual sledgehammer tact, he had a bit of a simper about improving matters for the peasants; which, coming from the scrounger-baiting CEO of Food Bank Britain, must have elicited an appreciative snigger or two. Major achievements such as the three-year Osbornomic depression, the slowest recovery since the dinosaurs died out, the first doctors' strike in forty years, the racist van farce, the academies fiasco, and a respectable tally of flooded proles, dead Libyans, drowned refugees and massacred badgers, appear to have been modestly passed over. However, the Head Boy did find time amid the fun to express his pious hope that the dead-eyed prison warder will retain the nation's nominally independent capacity to kill a great many wogs while further degrading the environment. It seems at least probable that the table-banging enthusiasm which greeted this proposition was largely genuine.

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