Going Down, Gordon Brown?

Wanna buy a watch? It's Kosher!

Gor Blimey!

Kick a man when he’s down whydontcha? Ok then, I will!

Poor Old Gordy. All he ever wanted was the chance to fill old Tony B. Liars impeccably shiny and perfectly maintained bootshoes – and what does he get for his trouble?

 

A boat load of ministerial exposés, a gallon of freshly laundered flack and a monumental beast of a headache akin to being repeatedly beaten with rusty spoons for a year and a day while listening to Keith Harris and Orville singing “I Wish I Could Fly” on repeat for the entire duration.

Chancellor once was he, in charge of the taxes, all he had to do was tap on his trusty Tandy calculator, make some vague guesstimates, slap them in a big battered box, wave it about a bit and then pop into parliament and tell everyone how much they were going to be squeezed dry the following year. 

Not nearly as stressful as this lot. Ohhhh No. Blobby T. Lair got out at just the right moment. Lit the fuse and stood WELL back behind a wall of after dinner speaking engagements and being some sort of travelling troubadour for the UN or something. I dunno, I make this stuff up. What is it he does these days?

I’m digressing. So Gordy, (Can I call you Gordy?) lands the plum job while Toby packs his spotted handkerchief, ties it to a stick, and scarpers quicksmart to hide deep in a cave in the Afghan mountains.

 Meanwhile, back at the ranch, things trundle along for a bit – and then OH DEAR – the worlds financial markets disappear up their own arseholes – and everyone is plunged into the DOOM and GLOOM and VAVAVOOM world of EVIL RECESSION.

“Oh bugger” thinks Gordy – “This isn’t going to win me any popularity contests, not only was I in charge of the cash, but now I’m in charge of everything – Pantaloons! People will not like me any more! I know, I shall offer them a couple of grand off a new car, that will help! Everyone will love me again then!”

And then… just when it couldn’t possibly get any worse… It got worse. Some fine public spirited individual with nothing but the spirit of human goodness and potentially a few quid from the tabloids spilt the beans on the expenses of the Ministers that we, the voting public elected to work in our interests by artexing their ceilings, paying their grandmothers elderly cousin to do their darning and funding their partner’s jizz fests (oh, and building badger enclaves).

Oh dear, Gordy. What a palaver! What else could he do but start giving them a “STERN TICKING OFF”. But they didnt seem to like the “STERN TICKING OFF” and started sharpening their paid-for-by-the-public- purse Jean-Patrique knives (with free Knife holder) and wielding their also-paid-for-by-the-public-purse-stroppily-handled Le Creuset frying pans and ramekins around his head.

Meanwhile, Gordy’s Tandy calculator, once much loved and used to make up random figures and call them a budget, has only one remaining use left to it’s cobwebby solar panel and buttons, and that’s to calculate how many days hours minutes and seconds he has left running the country he once so aspired to reign over.

More annoying? Well, what do you think???

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2 Responses to “Going Down, Gordon Brown?”

  1. dominoid747 Says:

    I think the biggest problem is summed up quite nicely by Weebl: http://www.weebls-stuff.com/toons/Gordon/

  2. My beautiful Gordy – the Bagpuss of politicians – why everyone pick on him so? I shall send him a warm flask of Irn Bru, a haggis sandwich and a wonderful rendition of me screeching the Scottish National Anthem, Donald whures ur troosers, to lift the poor dears spirits.

    Don’t fret Gord, I luvs you… although mainly coz your Dad was a minister and I go all pervy over highly moralistic, holy men who wear dresses. Hmmmm.

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