My Christmas Address
The question most often asked of late has been, "Victor, where are you?". My lengthy disappearance has been the cause of much spilled ink and, it pains me to say, many spilt tears.
My period in the 'wilderness' breaks neatly into two phases.
First I wanted to get away to take the temperature of France. And I took it's temperature in the way traditionally much loved by the French: rectally.
Yes, I have journeyed to the arsehole of France, the foresaken banlieus (banlieux? I'm still struggling with the language) and there, my true identity cloaked and with only a few aides and assistants to help and protect me, I have moved among the people. I saw first hand the dreadful effects of decades of failed political leadership. This, remember, is the failed leadership for which little Sarko and SegaMegadrive Royale are the current torchbearers. Truly I have stuck the finger of political curiosity up the bumhole of this great nation, tested its prostate and taken its pulse. In doing so, I have learned that there is a wind of change coming.
France is ready for the Latrine.
It was necessary, therefore that the Latrine should make himself ready for France.
To this end, and having encountered my two nubile 'policy advisers' at a vodka bar in the Diocese of Southwark (where such encounters are more common than one would guess) I decreed that a policy retreat was required.
This formed the second part of my enforced absence. Our high level policy discussions consisted mainly of watching DVDs of the West Wing, Yes (Prime)Minister and that one where the bloke keeps saying "you could say that, but I couldn't possibly comment" before killing folk. We broke up the pressure of such arduous research by dancing around in our pants in the manner of a 1960s film.
The result of this is a full policy direction, some talking points and, erm, stuff we want to run past the focus groups.
Oh, and a law suit from one of the the policy assistants.
Hey ho, you can't win 'em all -- I was just interested to see if the whole bag of chestnuts would fit.
LibEgFrat to you all
Victor
1 comment:
Personal and Confidential
From the office of Peter Rarebit of Rarebit, Cerk, Maberme (offices London, Paris and Moscow)
WITHOUT PREJUCDICE
Dear Mr. Latrine,
We represent a young lady by the name of Letitia Cecily Browne-Staynemarx who is known to you as Teeny. If your memory needs a jog then I think I need say no more than ‘the whole bag of chestnuts’.
Our client alleges that having procured her services, from ‘St. Mary Overy Escorts R Us’ that you abducted her together with her business partner and sister, known to you as Weeny, and then held them for several days against their will.
Furthermore, and possibly more importantly, since there are certain elements of this allegation that contradict the first, you failed to honour the contract that you made with ‘St. Mary Overy Escorts R Us’ by not paying the agreed fee. The rate card that was shown to you clearly states that a fee of £80 per hour will be charged for each and every hour that you hire the services of an escort and that the hirer would be liable for all expenses. It was therefore disingenuous of you to claim that you had employed our client as a Research assistant at the minimum wage rate of £5.30 an hour and that you were entitled to reduce her wage by the amount that you had spent on food and board and education materials etc. and so to conclude that my client in fact owed you money.
Finally there is the matter of the bag of chestnuts. This is illegal. The fact that you also included the cost of the chestnuts in the expenses that you were charging my client speaks volumes.
Although we are confident that we have a cast iron case against you should we go to court, we feel that it would not be in our client’s best interests.
Let me explain.
Our client and her sister form a singing and dancing act known as ‘The Teeny & Weeny Sisters’ and obtained some fame about 3 years ago with their number one song, which they wrote themselves, entitled ‘Touch me there, if you dare’. Since that time they have been poorly advised and they would now like to revive their career. A very public liaison with a famous politician such as yourself with various titillating references to the chestnuts would keep our British press in column inches for several days. Then at a strategic moment ‘The Teeny & Weeny Sisters’ will release their latest single ‘Chestnuts are a girls best friend – Hot Hot Hot - What a lot we’ve got’ not just here but also across the Channel, and you, Victor, will step out into the limelight that will shine your path to the presidency.
We will of course expect our usual fee – only payable on result on terms to be agreed.
Peter Rarebit
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