The Curmudgeon


Tuesday, April 12, 2011

The Good Old Days

The Compère: And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, we are proud to present - a monochrome masterpiece of monotonous mediocrity mulled in malignant ministerial mendacity...

The Audience: Oooooh...

The Compère: A cretinous carnival of querulous quackery and cash-corrupted Currie-cuddling Conservative crookery...

The Audience: Aaaaaaaaaah...

The Compère: The sententiously sub-standard, sanctimoniously sub-Thatcherite suit of slate - the final phoneme in felonious philtrum-filtered four-flushing foolery - Ladies and Gentlemen - Sir John Major and his Balls!

(Polite indifference)

The Artiste:
There once was a chappie called Tom Major-Ball:
A major event in the old music hall;
But his children remained little minors all.
Sing rum tiddy iddity wimpy and weed,
O very considerably so indeed!

Dear old Daddy Major had plenty of tricks;
He danced and he sang and he shtuck all his shticks;
But Johnny No-Ball went in politics,
Sing rum tiddy iddity marketty force,
O very considerably so of course!

He started out as the Chancellor,
Established himself as a major bore,
Droning, "Erm - we're in - we're out - oh lor'!"
Sing rum tiddy iddity Euro-oh-no,
O very considerably not quite so!

With Back to Basics he tackled the worry
Of Britain's non-cricketing immigrants' hurry,
While availing himself of a dreadful hot Currie;
Sing rum tiddy iddity decent and grey,
O very considerably up and away!

He stayed seven years, mediocre and moany;
He played Gulf War I though the pretext was phoney,
Then he fucked off to Lord's and left us with Tony.
Sing rum tiddy iddity, nothing or less,
O very considerably so and oh yes!

(Rapturous apathy)


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