A rush and a push and the land that we stand on is ours
Latrinists all!
Now is the time for the big push!
Little Sarko has emerged from his hutch and for the moment the so-called front-runners in this campaign offer the people of France a choice between two representatives of a litany of political failure, each trying to dress themselves in the clothes of the outsider.
Nonsense. Make no mistake about it, Sarko and Royal are the heirs to failure. Electing either of them would be to guarantee that France remains mired in the morass of political timidity.
Turn instead to the true outsider, a man who offers himself to France, to provide the leadership and vision that will unleash its true potential.
A man unfettered by the craven awfulness of the past. A man not beholden to vested interests in the unions, business or government. A man free to identify a vibrant new direction for France. A man who now has his glasses back.
Turn to Victor Latrine.
Now is the time for a major push, to drive this campaign to the forefront of the French political scene. As I said to one of my research assistants the other day "One last big push for Victor, baby"*. It worked then and it can work again. A final push, a final spurt, and the Latrine presidency is in sight. It worked then and it can work again.
I set out below some practical steps we can all take to make this push happen. I urge you, as a loyal Latrinist (Latrinista, if you prefer) to take these measures and more.
Thank you for your attention
LibEgFrat to you all
Victor
Practical steps:
- Spread the word
- Buy the merchandise
merchandise -- buy it! See the full range here. I particularly recommend the thong, as worn by all my research assistants.
- Write to Sarko, write to Borloo
Minister for Employment, Social Cohesion and Something Else (housing
actually), demanding that I be given French nationality and can therefore
contest the election. Ideally you will compose your own letters, but if you want a sample, please email me to request one at the address below.
- You can contact little Sarko here
- Ridiculously, Borloo, doesn't seem to have an email address on his official website. His snail-mail adress is:
- 127 rue de Grenelle
75700 PARIS 07 SP* - Remember his name is Borloo, not Mooloo -- that is a latrine for cows.
- Share the love
replies. I can be contacted at victorlatrine@gmail.com
If everyone does this, then the final push will take us on to victory.
* the full quote was in fact "One last big push for Victor, baby, then we'd better wash the bottle"
4 comments:
Dear Victor,
I was a bit surprised to find that my key to the campaign HQ does not work any more. Have you changed the locks?
Admittedly my journey back took somewhat longer than I had expected and I was not looking by best when I arrived. My sojourn in crowded police cells in Dover, resulting from the misunderstanding with the immigration officials about not travelling with a passport, was trying to say the least. I tried explaining about how I had been looking for Victor Latrine in Monte Carlo and had then had to leave in a hurry, but my words fell on deaf ears. I can assure you that, although I may have had a drink or two on the ferry, I was not drunk. But what else can one do in the back of an empty cattle truck? Thank god I had remembered to fill my hip flask.
They have now dropped the drunk and disorderly charge and that very charming solicitor you arranged for me says that he does not think they will press ahead with ‘causing an affray’ as the police version of events seems so improbable that a jury is unlikely to believe it. He did say that it was just as well that I had a criminal record and so was on the police computer otherwise I would have been sent to somewhere called Harmondsworth. By the way do thank him for the £500 he lent me when you see him.
I was a bit surprised about the lock business and somewhat disappointed that no-one came the door when I knocked. I knew that people were in there as I could hear music and laughter. I peered through one of the windows and was a bit surprised to see a man with rather alarming yellow hair and large glasses dancing round the room in just a pair of underpants. There was also several women there just wearing thongs with the French flag on the front. One of them was holding up what looked like one of the bottles of Bollinger Special Cuvee that I had laid in during the time of your absence.
I would be grateful if you could forward on my belongings (the remainder of the case of Bolinger, the small black note-book which is hidden behind the drawer of my desk, my retro telephone, the Banaram game and the USB missile launcher, to the Executive Suite 3, Macdonold Randolph Hotel, Oxford.
I now have another project which will occupy my time for the next few months and so, regretfully, must resign my post as campaign treasurer. I will nevertheless keep an eye on this website and wish you all the success you deserve.
LibEgFrat
Nerde
I wish you well. But with a name like yours, I worry that your enemies will try to make a joke by shitting on you. The monkeys do it to us in the jungle and its not even funny.
A pedant writes, informing me that I have sinned in the worst possible way, by misquoting Morrissey in the original title of this entry.
Apologies to the Saint of Salford.
Whilst checking the correct spelling I wondered yet again whether or not Johnny Marr's name was derived from j'en ai marre... web opinion varies, but it is a delicisou pun for these princes of ennui.
LibEgFrat
this is a bit wierd. y france?
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