Saturday, 19 December 2009
Treetime, and Tillfinger.
I have begun the Christmas stuff. The tree is assembled. It's a little one, four foot, because I'm not a druid so it really doesn't mean all that much to me. It's black because the very mention of that word could cause an anuerism in a Righteous head and I keep trying because everyone should have a hobby.
It's artificial, made of petroleum products, because I am not going to kill a tree, haul it indoors and humiliate its corpse by dressing it up in drag. A politician, yes. A tree, no.
I need more decorations. Still working on a decent intestinal simulation. The decorations so far are economy ones. You can get them for free if you call in at any sitting MP's office and ask to look in the till. They always have a few fingers in there. Which gives me an idea concerning Shirley Bassey (no, not that one. I had that idea many years ago and several times since).
This idea (although the other one was pretty good, as the picture reminds me).
Tillfinger. The MP
MP with expenses trough
A porcine trough.
Oh that Tillfinger
Laughs at you from deep in the pig swill bin.
You can't go in.
Spinning words he will squeal in your ear
But his lies, full of control and fear
Are all tax generating for you, sir
Pay to be spat on by MP Tillfinger.
Taxpayer, beware of the second homes.
And porno films.
(There's not much more to this song it seems, other than 'he loves only cash'. It was fun while it lasted.)
For those to young to remember the film, here's the theme. It also contains one of my favourite ever lines.
Bond: 'So, Goldfinger, you expect me to talk?'
Goldfinger: 'No, Mister Bond. I expect you to die'.
Classic stuff. Really puts me in the Christmas mood.
Posted by Leg-iron at 01:14