9 January 2008

Well, that's enough peace and goodwill to all men for another year; let's get back to pain and humiliation now. No sooner has Boxing Day lunch been demolished and slave Ian is cleaning up in his pretty pink pinny and Marigolds, when I receive an email from an old friend who tells me this weasel government has now published some new proposals to ban paying for sex or erotic services. Apparently, Dominatrixes are going to be affected by this too.

Now I can understand MPs not wanting to pay for someone to have sex with them, after all they expect everything else for free so why should they pay when they fancy a spot of kerb-crawling but does the Government really expect Dommes to abuse, humiliate and punish people for free? Surely that's what schools and HM Prisons are for, aren't they?

And how are they going to find out if you've paid or not? Send a Domination Inspector around? I'm certainly not going to admit to anything because I don't want to be banged up in nick with the likes of TV licence dodgers or old girls who can't pay their council tax.

Oh well, I suppose it's just another aspect of the stupid, drug-crazed hippie ideals of their youth: legalise drugs, save the environment and free love. Far out, man; but unfortunately not far enough. Man.

Crime and Punishment

No, not the long-winded book about how not to murder your landlady but the punishment of George, who gamely stood in for my very own personal burglar to receive his just desserts. Let me say it again Home Secretary and assorted judges, social workers, probation officers and those who care for the yuman rights of criminals: THE PUNISHMENT SHOULD FIT THE CRIME.

11 March 2008

How amusing to read that our greedy MPs are going to have to explain to the paying public what they waste their expenses on. I wonder how many of them are going to have to admit paying thousands of pounds for a "damned good thrashing" and try and explain it away as a consultation on the subject of penal reform. I'd love to have a couple of MPs visit me here for a good hiding but they never take any notice of anyone so I don't think they'll obey me and they'll probably want it free, like everything else they get.

Never Trust A Hippie

Now that the Mad Madhi of Canterbury has given up the good fight and called for Islamic Law in Britain I suppose I shall now have to be known as Mistress Sharia, Dominatrix to the faithful. I don't see this being very popular here because although it'll be easy to deal with cross-dressers by giving them a black plastic dust sheet to wear, I can't see many wanting to return for the discipline sessions. Hand spanking? No, we don't do that here any more; it's hand amputations now for being caught masturbating. That should cure you.

How am I supposed to give someone 200 lashes in front of a baying mob? I'll have to do it at closing time.

I just hope I don't have to wear a rubber burka because it's hot enough in a rubber dress. See how I suffer for you.

Tax and Spend

As most people know, or they should do after the last ten years, socialist governments are only ever good at two things: spending other people's money and lining their own pockets so it was a great surprise to open my copy of that left-wing rag, The Daily Express and read the following headline, right:

That's right, that grubby-looking Scotsman is going to tax old people into penury so I can have some spending money. I suppose it's because they can't get enough tax off pensioners to waste on their latest lunatic idea.

I understand OAPs waste their pensions on heating.

Those of you who left school before our beloved government's Year Zero pledge of Education, Education, Wo' evfa and can read English will be delighted to see I've uploaded a story from Axyloid about hunting. Those of you who can't read and have become unemployable misfits, well you should have paid attention, shouldn't you?

9 April 2008

Mad Max

Richard Littlejohn, in the Daily Mail, wrote about Max Mosley who was exposed in the papers for enjoying a five-hour SM session with five Dommes dressed in Gestapo uniforms. With great insight, he writes how men have always wanted to be dominated by women in uniforms, irrespective of the denomination. My point exactly. Strange that many on the SM scene decry SS uniforms yet stomp around in Stasi costumes. Maybe it's because they have no understanding of what they're doing and believe everything they're told by the "leaders of the SM scene". Deep sigh. Save me from "right-on" SMers.

What I don't understand is why expose him? He paid someone £2500 for a five hour session so why lose someone like that? Mad? I bet he was furious.

Mad Marx

Where do they find these scruffy, ill-kempt Marxists who pretend to be school teachers these days? One of these dirty creatures crawled on to the screen of my brand new, 42 inch Sony Bravia television the other day, mouthing his sedition, to demand the army stop visiting schools. That's odd, teachers are always grumbling they're being attacked and bullied by pupils so surely the army would help protect them if they were in schools, wouldn't they? That just goes to prove that they love it when a couple of school-girls beat them up in the classroom. Maybe if they hadn't campaigned to stop discipline in schools they could get their own back with six of the best, on the bare.

Yes, I've got a new telly. A big Sony Bravia. If it was up to The Marx Brothers, we'd all be listening to the ballet on Radio MockBa.

Mr X

My friend George has appeared again for another re-enactment of Tom Brown's Schooldays. George is a leading yuman rights lawyer and MP so he's always in hot water here. You might recognise him here as Mr X in his court cases.


I know, you're waiting for the next Dominafuhrer episodes to be loaded; well I've told slave Ian to start typing faster or I'll contact his boss, that dreadful Harriet Harman. What a delight she must be to work for; no wonder slave Ian is a masochist. Where do they find these charmless harridans?

I've never dominated a Gurkha but I'd love to; they must be a real push over. I can't understand why, if 7,000 of them were protesting in Parliament Square, they didn't take over the government and decide to run the country themselves. Who could have stopped them? The real army? They're too busy protecting teachers from crazed children or shooting turbaned foreigners in some God-forsaken land. The police? Far too dangerous for them so they'd probably all be busy arresting a pensioner for not paying their share towards the socialist paradise we live in. The Government? Well who listens to anything they've got to say?

If we're going to be governed by foreigners why should it be the Germans or that grubby-looking Scotsman?

Free Tibet

Anyone know where I can get this free tibet that's being advertised everywhere?

5 May 2008

Ich Bin Ein Hamburger

Mit fries und ein large coke, bitte! Ja! I'm going to Hamburg to get away from everything in May; 12 - 15 to be exact so phones and emails won't be answered. To make the visit a bit more enjoyable I'm learning a bit of German so I can speak to the natives without shouting and pointing. I thought I'd learn German before it became compulsory throughout Europe or whatever its called these days. I'm not quite sure what I'll do if they don't answer the same as the language tape I've got. I've already explained to slave Ian that the correct form of address for any male figure of authority such as a waiter, policemen, High Court Judge, etc is Dumbkopft so we're good to go. Underlings such as servants, shop staff and the poor can be dismissed in my usual high-handed manner.

I'm sure the Hamburgers will delight in slave Ian's wartime anecdotes and jokes.

While I'm in Germany, I'll be re-stocking my collection of pepper sprays and buying a taser gun so I can go about my business without fear of being accosted by drug-crazed criminals who have been released early by some soppy liberal. Funny how you never read about yuman rights do-gooders being kicked to death for the price of a spliff.

Everyone Out

Oh, someone please pay those poor teachers for heaven's sake. They all look so poor and down at heel; are they all destitute? Do they all live in trees? It looks as though they've all run into a local charity shop and put on any old, ill-fitting clothes they could find; not a shirt and tie amongst them. The men can't even afford to buy razor blades and they all appear to live on cheap food like chimp-burgers and lard from the way they waddle. What a dirty, grubby, unwashed bunch; it's no wonder the brats play truant when they have this lot trying to teach them.

How very different from the genteel Miss Evans who taught me my times tables.

Madame Tachibana

Another double session with Madame Tachibana, which thankfully didn't include hanging the victim this time. Five hours non-stop. She has surely got to be one of the best Dommes in London.

Tax and Spend

Some idiot scientists have admitted that global warming is nothing more than a scam to make people pay more for the same old service and keep scientists in a life of luxury. I slapped an arbitrary £20 tax on my fee, to cash in like everyone else, when this madness began to take hold but I've spent the money so I'm afraid there will not be any refunds. However, at least you can enjoy the look on the faces of the green zealots who were duped by this nonsense when they try to explain why they were so gullible.

Old Glory

Miss Spiteful's version of the Stars and Stripes. Yankee Doodle Dougie wanted me to whup his ass; I'm not quite sure what that meant.

22 May 2008

Back at last from Hamburg. Unfortunately, Terminal 5 was true to form and left slave Ian's suitcase in London so he had no clothes to wear. Luckily he had a string vest and was able to borrow a pair of leather Lederhosen from the concierge so he could go out. A trip to the local SM club was out of the question with him dressed like that, though. Thankfully, his case turned up just as he was about to pay the bill so he was able to manhandle it back to the airport. However, he thinks someone had been wearing his underwear although I can't see the loading staff walking around in his corsetry, would they?

To remind me of all that's best about the UK, I took Cherry Blair's new book to read on holiday. Mmmm, tales about her periods and contraception device (a cap); you don't get more classy than that. And she has a face that one would never tire of slapping, too.

Libel and the law

I read an interesting article the other day about libel on the Internet. Apparently it's libellous to expose someone to hatred, ridicule, contempt or to lower them in the estimation of right-thinking members of society. I don't think I'll have to worry about that because I'm only abusing our corrupt, weasel politicians, soft, liberal judiciary and left-wing yuman-rights industry. And they expose themselves to hatred, ridicule, contempt, blah-blah-blah without my help.

The Best Politicians That Money Can Buy

Now, to try and criminalise everybody in this country so they can raise more money to waste, this corrupt government and its weasel politicians have introduced a law which makes it illegal to possess images of an extreme nature. This was included in the Criminal Justice and Immigration Bill passed on 8 May.

Section 113

Possession of Extreme Pornographic Images states that it is an offence for a person to be in possession of an extreme pornographic image. As defined by the new Criminal Justice Bill this is:

An act which threatens or appears to threaten a person’s life;
An act which results in or appears to result in serious injury to a person’s anus, breasts or genitals;
An act which involves or appears to involve sexual interference with a human corpse;
A person performing or appearing to perform an act of intercourse or oral sex with an animal.

Okay, I'm not going to be having sex with animals or dead bodies in the near future (I hope) nor am I going to be threatening people's lives for a while, but I am concerned about "an act which results in or appears to result in serious injury to a person's anus, breasts or genitals".

Of course, HM government being made up of incompetent failed lawyers they've failed to explain what, exactly, is meant by "extreme" and "appears to" so almost any image of cp can be regarded as extreme and therefore illegal.

What this means is that if you've downloaded images of someone being caned, it can be regarded as illegal. If you have joined a membership site, which is based in this country, and paid by credit card then this can be traced. So with this in mind, I've got to remove some of the more "extreme" images of seriously injured buttocks and genitals. And you thought this government couldn't censor the Internet.

3 June 2008

Summer Holiday

Slave Ian wants it known that he has never worn a string vest, it was an airtex vest (see above). I'm not quite sure how that's any better but there you are. Hamburg. Full of Germans who all speak English, so I didn't need my German phrase book. Obviously, winning the war had its uses. I also see someone has sued because his holiday resort was full of Germans; I wonder if I can claim for that too, my holiday was full of Germans.

In June, I'll be on holiday, again, in Devon. I wonder if they'll all speak English down there too. I'm away 14 - 21 June, hopefully to fill up on lots of cream teas.

Idiot International

I don't know what has happened to HM Prisons. Never having been inside myself, I always assumed the prisoners were beaten and buggered regularly by other prisoners and prison officers. Apparently not. They have to treat the child murderer Ian Huntley like a member of the family. Personally, I'd treat him like a member of that Austrian's family (no, not the Hitlers) and lock him in a dark cellar for the rest of his life. And why worry about Islamic fundamentalists? Simply put one of them in a cell with three skinheads and explain to all that, "Nooo, the sheikh isn't wearing holy robes, he's wearing a pretty frock. Have fun, boys". Problem solved. Personally, I don't understand why pensioners don't apply to become prisoners because it must be a far cushier life; simply stop paying council tax and be treated to a life of luxury.

A professional ninny who claims to be the government's Commissar of Children doesn't want juvenile delinquets stopped and searched for knives, in case it antagonises them! They need a good hard thrashing across the bare not molly-coddling. That'll antagonise them too but at least they'll know who's in charge. Where do they find these dopes from? Not from a crime-ridden council estate, I bet.

Another great wheeze from those whacky Global Warming scamsters: Selling Carbon. Just send me £500 and I'll send you a packet of carbon to spend how you like. This must be the same as pyramid selling I suppose but who would be daft enough to buy a pyramid? The same dupes who'll buy carbon, no doubt.

Quilp! After 12 years of constant whining to have a chastity piercing, I sent him to see Lady Rochester to have a Prince Albert and a guiche (behind the scrotum) piercing. I hope she managed to find his penis because it's not very big at the best of times and rather slimy. Anyway, now I can pull his small penis back to his scrotum and put a lock through the two rings so that he can't masturbate without asking for my permission.

30 June 2008

Back at last from a lovely relaxing summer holiday and I managed to buy all my souvenirs and presents in a large Sainsburys. Soooo easy! Of course, global warming was in little evidence again, more like global mild with sunny showers. If I catch any of these green lunatics I'll give them a bit of a warming they won't forget.

Nevertheless, global warming has lost its fashionable cachet now it's been exposed as a bit unreliable and carbon footprints are all the rage. To save the environment, the government are planning to manufacture and erect around 10,000 windmills all across the environment. And ten new towns. I can't wait.

Das Vierte Reich

This year, for a change, I went abroad for my holiday: Devon. For those of you who were a little slow in Geography at school, Devon is in England. I used to live in England once but now I live in a multi-cultural, crime-ridden, anti-white, anti-Christian, equality-obsessed, dumbed-down, snooping authoritarian utopia governed by foreigners for the benefit of foreigners.

The Doctor Will See You Now

Nick, who some of you know, unfortunately suffered a mild heart attack just before our holiday so I had to do a lot of running back and forth to the hospital. What a great place; I managed to pick up loads of supplies there like rubber gloves, needles, surgical spirit. There's lots of things just lying about and you can put them in your bag without anyone complaining. I found it best to wear a white coat and nobody questions a thing you do. Some people even come up and asked my opinion on the most personal issues. I told them they were going to die; well they will one day. What do they expect?

"The law is an ass, sir, I repeat the law is an ass"

Whilst away, I noticed some big fat arab with a beard, Abu Khazi or something he was called, has somehow managed to be released from jail. I know this weasel government and the useful dupes who support it hate America and everything American but a judge over there sentenced an Englishman to life in prison without parole. Now that's a sentence I enjoy reading. Over here the judge is more likely to say "you will be sentenced to serve the rest of your life on benefits at not less than £50,000 per annum cost to the taxpayer"

Mr Bumble

Yet another slow-witted dullard who somehow managed to rise to the rank of judge has let a teenage criminal go because he felt sorry for him! What? The thug didn't even suffer a disapproving look from the beak. I don't suppose a good thrashing of 144 strokes would do any good, would it? I mean for the imbecile in fancy dress sitting on the bench, not the knife-wielding thug.

What Not To Wear

Who the hell persuaded Sir Bob Mugabe to wear a red and white floral coat with a red baseball cap in public? He should shoot his tailor not the opposition.

And why is everyone getting upset about our corrupt, Marxist government not invading Rhodesia? Most of this shower spent their tax-payer funded youth supporting Sir Bob and other terrorists so they're not going to admit they were wrong, are they? I thought that was the template for governing Britain, anyway.

31 August 2008

All right! Sit up straight and pay attention.

A New Story, but not the Dominafuhrer

Some of the brighter ones amongst you might have noticed I haven't updated this site for a while, that's because I've been busy re-formatting my PC again, due to yet another little Windows problem. Also, I'm concerned that a lot of my photographs will fall foul of yet more government interference, like elf and safety. I don't know why they bother, I always feel completely safe enough when I'm beating someone's bottom. Nevertheless, I have loaded a new story by Axyloid, who appears to be under the impression, I should be giving you a sporting chance to escape punishment. What a bizarre idea! And a new story from David, who wrote and sent it to me a couple of months ago - I lost it until this morning. I'm afraid I'm going to thrash someone for that.

Anyway, for those of you waiting interminably for the for the next Dominafuhrer story, take heart. Slave Ian is a high ranking civil servant working to one of those shrill harridans who pretend to be a government minister; anyway he has plenty of spare time in the office because he's not trusted to do very much that's important. Like all public servants in local or national government slave Ian can, and often does, spend the whole working day idly day-dreaming and thinking up ways to tax us more and make life more difficult. To punish him for not writing the story, I'm making him take me to Dresden but he seems to think we have to fly there on a cloudy night, under cover of darkness. Read the stories, or else.

Feel Like I'm Fixing To Die

Another day, another couple dead. No, not our brave, gallant soldiers shooting bearded wogs up the Khyber but another couple of gangsta soldjas killed on the streets of Britain. I would have thought they'd be better off joining the army, at least they'd get a gun to shoot back with.

Yes, I know, I know, I used the derogatory term "wogs" when describing demented jihadis so before you all scream, "Miss Spiteful, you must not use such wicked words or you will hurt their feelings and get into very big trouble" let me explain. I see it like this: these people, and their families living in the West Midlands, want to destroy our civilisation and kill us all so I don't suppose hurting their feelings is going to matter that much really and if it makes those "right-on" people in Islington choke on their Free-Trade chardonnay, well so much the better.

I don't know why they don't bring the army home anyway. If all the Taliban come from the Midlands, billet the army up there and let them shoot anyone wearing a beard and sandals, men or women; they can have 10 bonus points if they shoot any bearded lefties.

Hurt their feelings? What, me worry?

How Green Are the Vegetables?

Not content with leaving this green and pleasant land unable to generate power because HMG allows environmentally crazed vegan mad-women to dictate policy, it is now going to cover the entire country with giant windmills. Wouldn't it be cheaper to build a time machine and send us all back to the 15th century? At least we'll all be living in the same age as the mad mullahs. Oh don't say it can't be done, the calendar says 2008 but we all know we're living in 1984.

How good it was to see Britain beat almost everyone else at the Olympics, ohh but that cute little Chinee girl won the singing contest. The handover was so authentic: scruffy, dirty-looking oafs fighting and scrabbling to be first on the bus and I loved the way they included OAPs in the handover - they were all pushed to the back of the queue and they were all invisible. Just like in London. I hope I can find the time to go to the fox-hunting finals in 2012, my favourite sport.

Lucky old Abu Hamza, going to live in America as a guest of the USA. I'll miss him as Britain needs all the figures of fun it can get. I use the name Mrs Abuhamza when I'm contacting the local council to demand better service. You should hear the sharp intake of breath from the council officials when I tell them my name; and they always seem willing to do everything they can to help.

16 September 2008

Who else, except the Americans, would vote for President - A Dominatrix, WITH A GUN! At last, we're going to be in charge and I bet there's going to some real changes made. Vice President? No, she'll sideline that old bloke and take control in no time, don't worry. She probably wears leather just to upset the animal rights lunatics; but then, don't we all? Can you imagine any of the hectoring, shrewish harridans in our government wearing leather? If that doesn't make your testicles shrivel up, nothing will.

I understand she lives in Alaska so I wonder if our foreign-lackey PM will ask her to shoot a couple of bears so our Grenadier Guards can have a couple of spare hats? Better tell her not to shoot any polar bears as they're the wrong colour.


At last! We have a new Dominafuhrer story, continuing the adventures of the Godmother in 1956, so threatening to expose slave Ian a'la Max Mosley works well. I wonder how long I can keep using that. 1956 was a very traumatic year for slave Ian as that was the first year he was caught dressed up in women's clothes by the local police, late at night. As punishment for his intransigence in writing his story, he's begged to take me on holiday to Dresden. He said he's flown there many times in the past but now he'd like to visit it.

Dresden, Here I Come

Yes, I'm off to Dresden on 6 October. With any luck, I'll be able to pick up some automatic weapons; there must be loads of old Stasi stuff still left over if the mafia haven't stolen it all. I'm going to need some guns to protect my home from the maraunding hordes when the power cuts start this winter; I've read in the papers that the UK won't be able to generate enough power and there'll be riots, so I need to be well-prepared. I wonder what the tofu-eating greens will have to say when everyone realises their daft windmills aren't going to produce any power after all, just a low hum. Maybe it would be a good idea to strap them onto their bikes and connect them to the National Grid to generate electricity. We could make fat kids lose weight that way, too. Anyway, I'm going to Germany where they hopefully keep their mentally-deranged vegans locked up in asylums. What on earth is tofu, anyway?

At last, a politician I would vote for! The Australian who wants to use cattle prods on the lame, sick and weary or the unemployed as they're known by do-gooders. Can't we get him to rule us instead of the foreigners from the EU?

30 September 2008

Deutschland Uber Alles

As you probably all know by now I'll be in Dresden on 6 October for a few days well-earned holiday, practising my English on the Germans. They always speak English so well and so proper, unlike the scruffy, ill-educated misfits who have been in school during the past 10 years. I've no idea how schoolchildren learn anything with teachers like that, but, oh of course, the young know everything, don't they? Anyway, to celebrate the fact of yet another foreign holiday, I've published another couple of episodes of the Dominafuhrer.

The only thing I'll miss when in Germany will be the coconut-shy called public life in the UK where the smug PC brigade, wet liberals and barking mad environmentals are exposed for the imbeciles and charlatans they really are. Who would have thought a weasel MP, solicitor and top policeman would be corrupt and squeal racism when caught out; well everyone would, I suppose.

Now, I know you're all thinking that they're only corrupt because they're foreigners so it's good to see immigrants intergrate into the British way of life. I couldn't stop laughing when I read that some rabid mad Mullah, who wants to behead us infidels and cover all women in dust sheets, has a daughter who's a single mother on benefits and works as a lap dancer. How quintessentially New Labour. Phone up dad and see if she does stag nights.

The Farting Man

It's great doing this job because you get to meet people from all over the world who parade their ignorance for me to ridicule. I suppose I should apologize to the people of New Brunswick because no matter how hard I beat this Canadian he couldn't remember all of the provinces of Canada. He did, however, fart all the way through the session although not as loud and as fruity as slave Ian does when he's dozing. I beat him with a Singapore cane; he didn't know where Singapore was either. At the risk of upsetting elf and safety and not offering them a big enough backhander, here's a snap of when east meets west.

Guten Tag.

21 October 2008

Dresden is very nice and full of lovely old buildings so I don't know why they keep going on about the bomb damage; I didn't see any and the Germans are very nice and friendly, not at all as they're depicted in films. Yet it's very odd walking around the streets of Dresden because you only ever see Germans - there are hardly any Africans and Asians like we see everywhere on the streets of Britain. That must be because everyone wants to come here since they love Britain and the British people.

It's so heartening to know everyone in the world would choose to live in Britain given the chance, just like that delightful Afghani woman and her seven children who earn £170,000 a year on the dole. Say what you like about our government but they certainly know how to look after people from abroad. What other country in the world would treat foreigners so well when the elderly are left in penury?

"But why, Miss Spiteful?" you all scream in astonishment, "Why do they do it? It makes no sense!" Ahh, but you are wrong, dull and simple lads. Those who govern us were Marxists in their youth and they are still Marxists today. They hate the English, England and everything England stands for and they want to destroy it. Once you realise that then everything New Labour does makes perfect sense.

Guardian Readers

It may surprise you but I often get Guardian readers write to me saying how they secretly love my views on everything but dare not admit it. For those who don't know, such as all of you not privileged to live in Britain, The Guardian is the paper that left-wing liberals read. It's easy to turn a left-wing liberal into a rabid disciplinarian simply by mugging their daughter. When it's the likes of you being beaten up by a couple of vacant-eyed lovable rogues, the left-wing liberals believe you should try to understand the miscreants but boy, do they squeal loudly for the birch when crime affects them.

Imperial Britain

Thankfully the rest of Europe has come to its senses and averted war by allowing the UK to continue using imperial measurements as opposed to some foreign system so it will be a well-thrashed schoolboy, or girl, who doesn't know how many chains in a furlong or how many pounds in a hundredweight when attending my lessons.

Now, Trigonometry. Open your books to page 106.

Whilst on the subject of education, education, we don't want no education, a delightful drug-taking 17-year old thug said to one of his gang, "Don't tell no-one where you hid my gun". So the co-defendant told the police; I suppose the irony was lost on the shooter. If only the boy had been thrashed mercilessly at school until he understood it should be, "Don't tell ANYone". No doubt he'd still be on a murder charge but at least he'd be able to speak the Queen's English in an articulate manner. Maybe the government's Education Idiot should be thrashed.

It's Good To Be Green

Thank heavens for the credit crunch, at least it's shut up the mentally insane Greens and confidence tricksters from demanding we be taxed to an early grave for having a 60-watt bulb in the house. All the papers are full of how we can't afford a 60-watt bulb. I don't know if any of these madmen have thought but, surely, the melting ice-caps might be evolution's way of turning polar bears into fish; and very nice they'd be with a plate of chips too. Meanwhile, to help preserve rubber trees, I'm buying loads of butt-plugs made from ivory.

27 November 2008

Yes, we cane

That's what Dommes do; so why didn't America vote for the Dominatrix? So what if she spent someone's life savings on her clothes - that's what we do. I'd love to have seen her dragging that old chap around on a dog-leash. Won't they demand a recount? The left always do that when they lose. Oh well, they all want change but I'm afraid I don't have any change since that ghastly Blair fooled us all with the same nonsense over 10 years ago.

Surprise! Surprise!

It might surprise you to know that my name did not appear on the BNP membership list as I've never been a member of any political party. I wonder if they'll reveal the membership of any loony left parties; that should be embarrassing for some government ministers.

It might also surprise you to know that I've officially got a heart, and not one made of stone, that boy at the back. I had an ECG the other day then I came home and thrashed someone's bottom.


Now that recycling has been exposed for the government swindle it obviously was, I wonder if all the greens will be forced to explain why we have to store rubbish in warehouses? Why not make them sell their gardens, at a knock down price, and dump all the rubbish on their old gardens. It could then double up as a travellers' site; they'd love that.

Tax and Spend, Spend, Spend

This Winterval, I intend to do as instructed by HMG and spend as much as possible, mostly slave Ian's but I'm more than happy to spend your cash for you. I'll send Quilp around dressed as Santa to collect the money.

18 December 2008

I'm Dreaming Of A Rainbow-Coloured Winterval

That's right, this year I'm going to celebrate a politically-correct, "right-on" Winterfest so firstly, let me wish a happy Wintermas to all the infidels who don't believe in a Merry Christmas.

Naturally all my presents are going to be ethical and free-trade because I like to think I'm keeping small children employed in far-flung lands. This year's big thing is a camel - for the dung, apparently, so I'm going to leave a big bag of camel dung on slave Gareth's door-step with a note to say "From Santa". That should keep him happy over Christmas.

The only problem with buying ethical gifts is they're all aimed at Africans but I don't know any Africans so I suppose I'll have to buy all Free Trade. Mmm, bananas or coffee? Maybe I'll just pretend I've send £50 to Oxfam, like everyone else does. Incidentally, if any of you are thinking of buying me a camel for Christmas, keep the receipt so I can exchange it for something I'd like, such as store credit.

For my own present I want a fur coat but I don't understand why all the fuss over that woman saying she'd kill a bear to wear a fur. Who wouldn't kill to wear fur? It's so soft and lovely to wear. Anyway, it's not as if she's going to wrestle the beast, I'm sure she'd be able to shoot it with a rifle from a distance. It's quite humane, really.

Gordon Is A Moron.

No, not that witty refrain from the seventies hit "Jilted John" but that grubby-looking unelected PM who pretends to govern the country when he really takes his orders from the EU. Gordon Broon has come clean and admitted he was thrashed at school with a Lochgelly tawse - well it doesn't appear to have done him any harm so I don't know why they're all so keen to ban it. What he didn't admit to was he deserved it; playing truant, I believe. That was obviously the day his teacher discussed the evils of socialism.

Death To The Infidels

I'm so in favour of assisted suicide; how about we start with Islamic terrorists so they can claim their prize of 72 virgins. Have they ever thought these virgins might all turn out to be men? Ugly men with bad breath? Happy Christmas everyone; here's my Christmas card.

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