Posts categoriezed as Politics
Roadkill Promises…
“No kippers left, guv’nor…”
The Sex Pistols were wrong – there is a future for England, it’s just a future without food.
So, apparently kids in parts of Old Blighty are going hungry. Even kids whose parents work are in trouble solely because the stupid little bastards were born to serfs who — despite spending 40+ hours in the field — don’t make enough money to support a family.
This sad but predictable situation has forced Save the Children to redirect some of its resources from feeding hungry Africans to feeding hungry British – the first time it has done so in its almost one hundred year history. While reasonable people are applauding this measure, others beg to differ and suggest instead some less orthodox solutions.
One such naysayer is Conservative MP Alistair Hurlington – Highbottom, known to his friends as Jumbo, who yesterday held a press conference in which he made his views known. As someone who finds himself in the possession of both a flying convertible – long story – and a fake but very convincing UK Press Card, I made sure I was there to take notes…
After squeezing his way into the conference room, waddling his way to the podium, and letting out a loud burp, Hurlington – Highbottom began…
“I know that we are all concerned about the plight of hungry children everywhere and naturally we want to do what we can to help. The answer, however, is not yet another handout. Why should the British public dole out money to some layabout and his litter just because he and the missus can’t be bothered to put down the cigarettes and beer and take up a second or third job? What utter extravagance! To waste good money on feeding children when there is a much easier and much more economic way to solve the problem.”
After pausing briefly to mop the sweat from his brow and brush the donut crumbs from his lapel, Hurlington – Highbottom continued…
“The fact is that everyone knows that hungry children are not Britain’s only problem. There are also large populations of feral pigeons all over the country, pooping on everyone and everything. I suggest that we solve two problems with one measure by passing legislation that will allow the poor to kill, cook, and eat these feral animals. I will even go so far as to say that the government should make available to the poor free cricket bats — though I think it only fair that the poor themselves provide the nails with which the bats need to be studded in order to be fully effective. Now, I know what you’re thinking. How the bloody hell do you kill pigeons with cricket bats?!?? The bloody things fly, don’t they ?!?! Well, what you do is make your way down to the town square and throw some gravel on the ground. The pigeons come down to check it out, and before the bastards can realize they’ve been duped, you thump them with the bat! Instantly you have a meal guaranteed to satisfy any child!”
At this point I felt compelled to interject…
“Er… what happens when the pigeons run out?”
“What in heaven’s name do you think feral foxes are for? Fine eating, I’m told! And you can make yourself a nice pair of boots too, thereby taking even more stress off the family budget! And let’s not forget the stray cats and dogs! These creatures are all great sources of high quality protein and other essential nutrients. And then there’s the Battersea Dogs Home and other animal shelters – those places are just full of animals looking for good homes, and they aren’t all going to find one, are they? Once those sources have been exhausted maybe we will be justified in giving these people money, but not till then. Why, I myself will pledge 50 p and a box of half-eaten donuts right here and now!”
At this point the press conference came to a sudden and unexpected end as a concrete-filled rubber chicken spun through the air and struck the MP on the head. His noggin not being as well padded as the rest of his frame, Hurlington – Highbottom went down like a case of sherry at a meeting of the House of Lords.
As the paramedics tended to what I fervently hope is a very serious concussion, I decided it was time to make a discreet exit. As I left the building I realized that an England full of starving children may not be the best place for a Pigman. I covered my head with my coat and sprinted for the parking lot.