This surprised us as much as anyone, and you’re not going to believe it, but apparently there was an ELECTION LAST WEEK!! I know!! When the hell did that happen? You’d think they could have mentioned it on the telly or something wouldn’t you? Anyway, long story short, the Tories are in power again (kind of) but only because all of a sudden Call-Me-Dave Cameron and Nick “wouldn’t-have-known-who-he-was-if-he’d-introduced-himself-4-weeks-ago” Clegg are now apparently taking warm showers together and cuddling long into the night.

The main story here is that the Conservative Party are in government again. Now regular readers of How Inappropriate will be aware that we are long-time supporters of the blue team, and have admired their policies, politics and dramatic lack of chins or conscience for many, many years. We yearn for the days of 3 million unemployed and persecution of the vulnerable for the sake of a bit of tax-cutting for the richest in society; it’s what made Britain great. The question that immediately bursts forth from our quivering lips though is “What next for the Kompashonit Konservativz?” (yes we learned to spell under a Tory govt. too.)

It’s a dilemma, the Tories’ main philosophy revolves around selling anything that rightfully belongs to the British public in order to promote dubious and failing free-market ideologies. But of course, they sold everything in the 80s, and Nu Labour, being a spineless bunch of pseudo-Thatcherites under the thrall of Tony “I’ve-got-a-grin-like-a-Cheshire-Cat-that-doesn’t-waver-for-a-second-even-when-someone-mentions-a-million-dead-Iraqis” Blair, didn’t bother reversing those sales. So what to sell next? There’s nothing left! The national cupboards are bare! They sold the cupboards! They’re now owned by a Conglomerate based in Belize!

Well we’re not going to let a problem like this go unsolved so we’ve racked our brains for literally minutes and come up with the following suggestions of what they can privatise next:

1. The Air.
Might not seem like the obvious choice and attaching sponsorship to something invisible and ubiquitous might be tricky but with lower taxes no doubt some dazzling entrepreneur can find a way to make us somehow think of Pepsi or JP Morgan Investments every time we inhale. For too long people in this country have lazed about thinking that they can just breathe this oxygen as if it’s their own.

2. The British Public.
The sheer capital gain to be made from exploiting the vast reserves or human labour available in this nation of ours makes this an un-missable opportunity. If we were to simply sell into slavery all those members of the public who contribute nothing to GDP: stay-at-home mothers, the poor, the unemployed, the disabled (all the non-working disabled anyway, which, let’s be honest, is most of them the lazy sods), we could pay down our deficit and allow everyone earning over £250,000 a year to pay absolutely no tax at all!

3. The Queen.
Frankly we can’t believe nobody’s thought of this before. It’s obvious, everyone loves her, she’s recognised the world over and the sponsorship rights alone would provide enough revenue to give every right-minded person in this country a fox to mindlessly chase down and butcher every weekend. If that doesn’t sell it to you, picture this:

This year's Christmas Address to the Nation is brought to you by Anne Summers - 2-4-1 on all rabbit-headed dildos from now until the end of January

We rest our case.

So come on you Tories,  let's not feel glum, yes it's true you couldn't win an election outright even after 13 years of a Labour government which had betrayed it's grassroots supporters, waged 2 un-winnable wars and presided over the worst recession since WWII, but all is not lost, there are still national treasures to flog and poor people to persecute, so come on, on your bikes and back to work!

Silverspoon: no comment on the Holocaust.

Yes, this fine and noble country is gripped by election madness. Everywhere you go, otherwise sanguine and unflappable citizens who in other times would appear unconcerned by a small invasion of Martians or an outbreak of the plague, are running around like crazed fools, sweating the small stuff over the likelihood of a hung parliament on May 6. Get a grip people!

And of course, no-one is being driven further to distraction than our very own Stewart Silverspoon, MEP for the South West and Conservative candidate for the seat of Twatt, Cornwall. This week he has been facing off with the big guns on Twatt FM. Let's hope he sticks to talking about about his plans for unblocking Twatt's sink and doesn't mention the Blacks. Or Immigration. Or Auschwitz - definitely nothing about that.

My wife stands by me at this difficult time...

Christ's balls Dave, that truly sucks.

How fresh is your Twatt?

So finally, the election date has officially been announced. Yes readers, May 6 is the day that Twatt gets to throw the hatchet-faced Madge Vaj out by voting for the only candidate for real change - me, Stewart Silverspoon MP. Well, bring it on. Obviously I have been working for a fresher South West from the European Parliament for the last year, but this is the moment I have been waiting for - the chance to implement my plans for a fresher, younger, tighter Twatt. This will be my last post in my Fresh Twatt column during the election, as I have to get on my battlebus and get out the Tory vote. But you can follow the progress of my campaign, and read about all the changes that I am proposing every day via my daily tweets:

• a progressive policy of tielessness for all local professionals, paid for out of efficiency savings in Twatt Town Hall (I will personally be reducing my six-strong residential staff from my second home in Happy Bottom by a third);
• hybrid-technology busses servicing the High street, reducing emissions from your Twatt by 70%, and a brand new terminus for these planet-hugging machines, built over a virtually disused Children's Centre. The bus station will be paid for by closing the grossly inefficient fire station, which I have discovered is only operational when a fire is reported!
• a Maris Piper potato in every street in Twatt, supporting the invaluable work that our local police force (PC Bill Handlebars) carries out in the community. The Community Support Potato scheme will be paid for out of Bill's salary, when he is regrettably sacked next month.

So as you can see these are not idle promises, nor a wish list of un-costed gimmicks, as Ms Vaj has suggested. These are real changes that I will be bringing to fix Twatt's sink, and end the years of harmful wealth redistribution in our community since the Conservatives successfully broke the Union of Cornish Tin Miners (Now Uni-Corn) fifteen years ago. Can we really endure five more years of Madge Vaj and her target-obsessed cronies? Can we stand by whilst she launches yet another ill-thought out scheme to provide hideously wasteful round-the-clock care to Twatt's pensioners? Or put the Council Tax up by 1p so that she can build a swanky new youth club for the black and asian hoodies potentially destroying our neighbourhood? It makes me shudder just to think about it.

But, in the words of the late great Notorious B.I.G., Things Done Changed. On May 6, Twatt will come to its senses and return me to parliament. And you too have a part to play in a Conservative victory. My close friend David Cameron also needs your vote: a vote for change. People have said to me, "We can't go back to the eighties!" To which I often reply, why not?! Really, what was so bad about that decade? Didn't everyone (well nearly everyone) get richer? Didn't everyone (quite a lot of people anyway) have the opportunity to improve their lives? And didn't everyone (well many of the Silverspoon clan for sure) love TV's greatest crime-fighting duo, Hardcastle and McCormick? In fact, who wouldn't go back there tomorrow, given half the chance?

Well, now the whole nation has a real chance to go backward on May 6. I'm asking you to not to Change Your Mind. Change For Me. Yes my friends, Something Changed. In the glorious words of the Silverspoon family motto: MUTATIS OPES NUSQUAM (The Times They Are A-Changing).

Vote Conservative.

Call me Jasper!

You talkin' to me?

"Friends, I come to you in a time of crisis. The referee's common-in-law wife has blown the final whistle on the game that has been New Labour economic policy, the last upper-lip pansy has been spatchcocked and we are well into extra-fisting time. I tell you now, I will put a stop to pensions for civil servants. In an economy where bankers go for a whole year without a £1m bonus, hedge fund managers have to sell their third Tuscan holiday home and Tory peers are forced to tell us whether they actually pay tax or not, it is madness to expect those earning less than £18,000 a year not to suffer horribly. Make no mistake, we are all in this together, and the public sector cannot be expected to be immune to the hardships faced by my Lithuanian housemaid Natasha who I was forced to sack without severance pay or notice just the other day.

As I asked my wife to do my laundry my only thought was of those council employees comfortable and secure in the knowledge that streets will always need sweeping - well not under a Conservative government! There is nothing more important than cutting the grotesque deficit that this Labour government leaves us with. It lies there quivering like flabby buttocks of loneliness and cannot be ignored any longer! If swingeing cuts to public sector services are what it takes to drag this country out of the chasm of debt Gordon Brown has left us with then rest assured, I will make those cuts.

Natasha - out on her ear.

And if those cuts turn out to be massively unpopular come election time, if the thought of frontline public services being slashed makes the voter think twice about voting Conservative, if it starts to look like those cuts will be as popular as the poll tax, then I tell you this: we won't do it! So for those waiting with baited breath for that favourite media catchphrase, "the u-turn", I have only one thing to say - you turn if you want to, and if the focus groups suggest you're headed in the right direction I'm right behind you like Speedy Gonzales on a bullet train.

My friends, we face difficult times. There are those who would tell you that a Conservative government will balance the budget on the backs of the poorest. Well I tell you this: it worked in the 80s, so why the hell not?"

Spatchcock: thinking about David's endz.

Hello again listeners, Ernest T Spatchcock servicing you once more, and it is a very uncomfortable one isn't it? As you may be aware, St Brenda's - an oasis of spiritual calm in this flesh-obsessed modern world of ours - has been dragged into the horrendous row which has embroiled the Catholic Church of late. I'm not talking about the Vatican's official acceptance last week that Pious VII's encyclical of 1812 - in which he stated that the world was an asymmetrical rhomboid - was wrong. No, I'm afraid I'm talking about our castrato chorister, David. It all started when I gave one of my regular morning homilies on Empire FM's Rude Thought For the Day.

I recalled the uplifting words of St Paul's Letter to the Philippians, which as regular listeners I know you're all very familiar with. Well, to cut to the end, word got round that I was just as familiar with David. In fact, talking of cutting to the end, that was very much the rude thought for the day which I was reflecting upon: the perfectly natural and non-sexy act of circumcision. But you know how the C of E faithful like to chunter on, and onwardly chunter they veritably did. By tea-time, I had performed an act of unspeakable depravity upon David's boyhood in the vestry after Evensong. By the next morning, I had paid him £10 not to report this to his mother and by the end of last week, I had colluded with my Bishop, The Unbelievably Reverend Duncan Teabags, to cover up the act for the next ten years. What a monster I have become, and it only takes a congregation of 19 to commit me to the eternal flames of justice!

Naturally I wanted to clear this unpleasant mess up, which is definitely not what I said to David, despite what a few wags were muttering under their breath during last Sunday's sermon. So I asked the delightful, uncommonly handsome boys at How Inappropriate if I might post an apology for the confusion on these illustrious pages. The mistake was actually that of an errant production trainee in the editing suite, who cut off my pre-recorded piece a little hastily. When listeners heard me declare that "I would like a nice piece of David", what they should have heard me say is "I would like a nice piece of David's mother, the deliciously skanky milf". As you can see, nothing could be simpler than the truth, which is why I felt the need to set the record straight.

That was the worst thing I've ever heard!

So I wanted to say that I am deeply sorry that I have been mistaken for a Catholic, who are obviously afforded the divine right to sodomise children and pay for their silence, and whose Pope is responsible for issuing an order that all child abuse claims had to be investigated in secret and remain confidential for at least a decade. Some more unforgiving critics have said that Benedict XVI bears a striking resemblance to a squashed Statler from The Muppets channelling Emperor Palpatine from Star Wars, but as far as I'm concerned, he's just a loveable Nazi. Either way, horrific paedophilia may be the prerogative of Catholic priests everywhere, but I need to assure my parish that my pecadillos are strictly limited to BBWs, golden showers, DP, shaved Asians and cling-film bondage. And that's the slightly boring truth, listeners.

May you all have a blessed Feast of Bellends.

Landmarks like that can be very deceptive ...

FOR THE LAST MINGE-SLAPPING TIME, FRANK, TELL ME WHAT QUANTITIVE EASING MEANS FOR THE CITY