WAKING with a hangover so excruciating my head is emitting a sound akin to that of the Tardis in Doctor Who, I drink the contents of a goldfish tank including, I suspect, a quantity of poo.
To my chagrin, my private secretary knocks at the door at the ungodly hour of 11am and takes the croaking noise I emit as permission to enter.
‘Archbishop,’ the chinless, vaporous fellow says, ‘inspired by the current World Cup, I have come up with some, I like to think, witty slogans that promote churchgoing by alluding to football.’
I groan inwardly and brace myself. He produces a series of large cards.
‘One. Don’t wait until “injury time” – commit yourself to the Lord your God right now.
‘Two. The Lord your God is the true God, Accept no “substitutes”.
‘Three. Don’t be “left back” – embrace God and kick the best goal of all!’
‘Fucking pathetic,’ I tell him. ‘There’s enough of this shit on every fucking hoarding around the underground. I’ll come up with something myself. Meanwhile, you can fuck off.’
And so he does. Taking 15 seconds, I draft my own slogan, deftly mixing football with a religious theme: RONALDO IS A CUNT. GO TO FUCKING CHURCH.
My work done, I take a light breakfast and peruse a periodical. Therein, I read that Keir Starmer has issued a formal apology to historical victims of forced adoptions. ‘The shame is ours,’ he said.
Fuck me with my dead Grandad’s wooden leg, while you’re dishing out the formal apologies, why not fucking apologise for committing billions of NHS money to fucking American drug companies recently, likely to result in 200,000 excess deaths and all in aid of sucking up to Trump? Why not formally apologise for appointing the paedo’s friend and serially disgraced streak of fuck Peter Mandelson? Why not apologise for every fucking thing you’ve done since conning Labour party members into voting for you? Nah, better to give a nice pompous apology spreading the blame so wide it’s fucking one molecule thick!
The England team finally prevailed in a match against the Democratic Republic of Congo, winning by two goals to one thanks to captain Harry Kane.
Fucking hell, that was a shitterama of a fucking performance! Not so much a defence as a fucking welcoming committee, Marcus Bollocks on one wing and Noni Shite on the other, and generally about as coherent as a fucking Trump speech when his meds are wearing off! Anyway, it’s fucking academic because everyone, but everyone, knows that football is coming home, alright – coming home to fucking France!
General Sir Richard Barrons has been doing the media rounds, arguing that Britain needs to increase its defence budget at the expense of other important public spending.
Christ on a wankstick, talk about fucking nominative determinism! Rich Barrons, eh? Sounds like your fucking ancestors spent their time burning down Saxon villages to extort taxes for the King’s coffers! More defence spending, my purple arse! Who’s the fucking danger? Putin? Invaded Ukraine and has managed to advance about 20 yards in fucking three years? Running out of generals because he keeps having them thrown out of windows for getting too big for their boots? We’ve more chance of being invaded by fucking Belgium and everyone fucking knows it. Definitely you, since you’re a f**king lobbyist for a City group with an interest in defence, you shilling bastard!
Finally, Morgan McSweeney has broken his silence since leaving his post, saying that Labour was ‘not prepared enough’ for government following their victory in 2024. He also said he intends to move in a ‘completely different direction’ now.
Cunting hell, I’ll say you weren’t fucking prepared enough! You went in with precisely three ideas: 1. Fuck over the Left and shit them out of the party. 2. Award top posts to all the fucking Labour Together cronies. 3. Er – that’s it. You didn’t think you’d need any fucking ideas about how to run the country beyond some word salads belched up by fucking focus groups like ‘Security, Prosperity, Respect’! The whole clueless, scheming mess shows you up as not just a prick but a grossly incompetent fucking prick. I hope the different direction you go in is towards the end of a very short fucking pier!
