When it comes to violent crime, I’m behind the potato.
What's That Black Kid Up To?
"A big hello to all the regular readers of my campaign journal, Twatt Matters, not to mention avid online followers of my twitter feed, Silver Twatter. As you all know, I am busy doorstepping my potential constituents in the historic Cornish mining town of Twatt, and telling them about my plans for tielessness in their community. Yes: if Twatt returns me to Parliament, I will banish the blight of regularly tied ties from public places, but no: there will not be an outright ban on Windsor knots, which are a fine British tradition. Under the Conservatives, it will be responsibly managed social change, carefully policed.
And talking of the police, this week my opponent - Labour candidate Madge Vag - took me to task over my plans for a restructured police force in the town. And when I say 're-structured' I mainly mean sacked. It is very true that in these difficult economic times, police budgets will need to be carefully trimmed. Locally loved PC Bill Handlebars will sadly be let go after nearly 30 years of service, but rest assured, your safety is paramount. Bill will be replaced by a Community Support Potato. CSPs are an integral part of any 21st century crime-reduction strategy, but they are particularly suited to tackle black, single mother and lesbian criminals in our community.
Police Constable Bill Handlebars: restructured
I am often asked whether there is any actual difference between a regular Police Constable, such as poor, jobless Bill - only three years from retirement and now completely unemployable - and a potato. And I can honestly say: No, not really, apart from the fact that the potato is unable to arrest, or in fact identify a criminal, and the potato is not really able to apprehend a criminal in the act of getting away, and that the potato is therefore essentially unable to stop any criminal activity occurring.
But the important thing is that the potato is a deterrent to crime. Just one look at our faithful CSP, in its high visibility vest, sporting its fearsome moustache and boggly eyes ... well, when I think about it, Bill and the potato really do have a frightening similarity, but that's probably a good thing. The important difference is that the potato - unlike dear old, partially sighted and slightly drunken Bill - can and will stop crime in the community. All it has to do is blow on its little whistle, and call for back-up. Which it doesn't have.
So this plucky Maris Piper, thrown into the plug-hole of Britain's broken sink, will undoubtedly have its work cut out. As I explained in my page 23 interview of the Morning Twatt last week, keeping Twatt safe does matter to me, because violent crime is on the rise, and the hooded youth of this broken society is to blame. When I say violent crime is "on the rise", I don't necessarily mean it is statistically rising, because if you're interested in statistics, they'll probably show that violent crime has in fact fallen in Twatt, year on year since Labour came to power.
But statistics won't keep your grandma safe at night, or stop your hubcaps being stolen from your drive: just ask the man in the pub. I've spoken to him, I've heard his concerns, and yes, I even bought him a pint of finest Twatter. That man is scared witless. He hasn't even left the pub for the last three years because of the things he has heard that have very probably been happening in his own town. He's demanding neighbourhood safety initiatives such as my "What's That Black Kid Up To?" campaign, which aims to reflect voter concerns about Black and Asian kids hanging around the Cineworld multiplex and acting suspiciously. Granted, not every Black or Asian kid is an actual criminal, but they are all potential criminals.
Community Support Potato Maris Piper: ready for action
Which is where our CSP comes in. He's a potential crime-fighter, which is why he is perfectly suited to deal with the horrific nightly knifings and terrifying daylight muggings that will definitely happen sometime in the future, quite possibly in or around Twatt, or certainly the South West of this hemisphere if not our proud land. Only with the sort of compassionate scaremongering that I am promising can we make this future a reality. As my family motto proudly declares: MANE POTATIS PREHENDO VERMIS [The early potato catches the worm]. With your support, I can get this potato into your Twatt."
Stewart Silverspoon is Conservative MEP for the South West and is standing for the seat of Twatt in the next general election.
A Fresher Twatt in 2010: Silverspoon campaign launched
Silverspoon: not pro-carpet munching
As you are all perfectly well aware, this month saw the slightly cack-handed launch of the Cameron Campaign to clean up Broken Britain, and flog it off cheap at a Tory car boot sale. Our own man for the job of fixing Twatt's 'broken sink' - MEP Stewart Silverspoon - is also out on the campaign trail, patiently trying to explain to the villagers why their mining town would be so much nicer with a couple more hybrid-technology busses and a few less carpet-munching dole-scum. Let's all drink to that!
You know what they say, there aren't no friend loike that up Twatt...
Dirty Old Man: Tony Blair exposes himself for How Inappropriate
Greetings, faith-followers!
Hey everybody! Tony here, and I wanted to say how grateful I am to be able to let the regular readers of How Inappropriate know about all the exciting things that have been going on in my life since I stopped ruling the world - I mean the UK world of course. Y'know, it really has been literally non-stop! For example, on Monday, I had to tend to a nasty spot of green-fly on the tomato plants in Connaught Square; then on Tuesday I had to give a world-exclusive address to the Catholic Mothers of the Great Climate Clean-up Challenge at Winslow Hall, our modest seventh home 20 miles from Chequers, explaining how my conversion has succoured me in times of spiritual need.
Wednesday saw me wanking furiously to the images of some hardcore carpet-munchers going at it hammer and tongs in Stoke Newington Cemmentary, while on Thursday I was speaking for £1, 000, 000 an hour at the Neo-Catholic Heretic-burning Matriarchs' Initiative, and on Friday tending to the spirited - and fleshy - needs of one of my voluptuous former consituents in the 20 acre garden of the Myrobella in County Durham. Naturally I spent most of Saturday morning working on a two-state solution for the middle east in my favourite pub, whilst dreaming about the landlady's fulsome lips plied around my tumescent member, before launching my brand new Tony Blair Peace, Love and Understanding Foundation. On Sunday, I had a bit of a rest. Phew, tough gigs, eh?!
TB's 3-step plan to heath and happiness - Step 1: Neutralise pests
But, y'know, as I said to my best mate John, when you're making a bridge roll, why stop spreading the love-paste? After all, I am - as I frequently remind the regulars over a mug of tea at my working-middle class men's club - the most successful, and good-looking Labour prime minister in British history, bar none. Our government sorted out all the wicked problems of the modern world: worklessness (it's a bad thing), childcare (it's a good thing, if completely unaffordable, because it reduces worklessness), free speech (a good thing if we control it), the Lords (a bad thing because we can't control them, unless we appoint them), fox-hunting (really easy thing to ban but an impossible thing to control), drinking (good, except outdoors), smoking (bad, except indoors), smoking cannabis (bad, then good, then bad again), terrorism (very bad unless you are a Lockerbie bomber, in which case it's not that bad at all), and the BBC (worse than terrorism).
Step 2: Assemble allies
So as I enter my golden years I find myself, in the words of Fukuyama, standing at the end of history, dressed in Paul Smith bathers and Oakleys wrap-a-rounds, heading for the beach in St Tropez. Indeed, if it wasn't for my successor, the useless Gordon, we would still be in pretty good shape, but of course the Presbyterian ne'er-do-well has made a right old fanny-dingo of our green and pleasant land since I left the scene. It really isn't that hard. All you have to do is suck up to the City boys, put the fourth estate on a tight leash, construct vacuous populist policies that seem to please everyone while changing nothing and costing less, and sit on the GMTV sofa quite a lot, giving Penny Smith the glad-eye. I keep expecting the droopy-faced curmudgeon to call me up and admit he needs me to come back and sort it all out, but ... nada. Zip. Zilch.
Step 3: Who knows?
Well, I said to JM whilst we were watching two young women riding their bicycles through Hyde Park; their short skirts riding sensuously up their tight posteriors, their impressive bosoms straining against their tight tops as they rode their well-oiled steeds hard: good luck to the charmless sod. I passed him the best hand at the table, and the house won. I wouldn't want to be in his shoes when the Camerons start measuring up those cornflour blue curtains in No 10 next May - hah! Because, as our Lord Jesus Christ once said: who knows? Who knows if history will be kind to us, like a pleasant, comely matron, gently bathing away the sticky extrusions of our political miss-fires? Or who knows if instead she will take the form of a filthy leather-bound dominatrix, strandling our prostrate, gagged form whilst threatening the semi-permanent whelts of ignomious political exile? Who knows? Who knoooowwws??
God bless you all.
Fresh Twatt: An apology from Stewart Silverspoon MEP
Silverspoon: denies everything
"Following some comments that have been attributed to me by a number of media outlets over the last week, I would like to use my Twatt Matters blog to offer my unreserved apologies, clarifications and outright denials, as appropriate.
Firstly I would like to say that I am terribly sorry for my misjudged and badly recorded outburst to Mr Baxter Bistock during a broadcast of The Bisto Roast that the new expenses system was "completely insane" and and that I had been "fucked up the arse good and proper" by a cabal of "pinko-liberal Labour morons" who were pursuing a "deliberate vendetta" which was designed "to put hard-up millionnaire Tory grandees on the skids" and that I thought Gordon Brown was a "Presbyterian hair-shirted hypocritical imbecile" who should be "dangled over Westminster Bridge by his feet until he comes to his senses".
Obviously these comments were made in jest, and a closer review of the recording proves the Mr Bistock laughed uproariously throughout this exchange, and subsequently suggested that I was a "charming" man with "balanced viewpoints" and "excellent hair". To suggest that I was in any way unhappy with these appropriately more austere mesures to curb parliamentary expenses, and indeed would actually dangle Mr Brown off a bridge to make this point, is to make light of the very real plight of the most disadvantaged members of our diverse community, viz. Cornish Blacks, public sector worker retards and lone parent carpet-munching dole-scum.
I am also shocked and appalled by my denunciation of the NHS earlier this week. Once again, as soon as Mr Cameron had one of his image consultants phone me about the matter, I realised that despite my proximity to our Leader-in-waiting's inner circle, I was completely out-of-line and unauthorised to annouce the death of the National Health Service, or to say that anyone still trying to access medical attention from this organisation was "clearly mental" because it employs doctors who are "quacks and goons" who "couldn't cure a headache", and accountants who "are trying to rob Peter Patient to pay Gordon Brown". In fact, I was especially correct to point out that the NHS is so "desperately cash-starved it should be shut down, parcelled up and flown over to Africa, where they're all so bloody backward it would probably be seen as a good thing".
Once again, I am not sure that I made these comments at all, but if I did I was just gently ribbing some of my very wealthy doctor friends, who are naturally employed by Bupa, and who would never consider working for such an underperforming piss-poor health service. I would also like to retract the comments I just made about the NHS being "piss-poor", which of course it is.
As I have been live-blogging these unreserved denials, a reader has just tweeted to say that he was outraged by my use of the phrase "lone parent carpet-munching dole-scum" in an earlier outburst. I would like to say for the record that I have the greatest respect for the gay and lesbian community of Twatt, and to suggest that I in some way think less of lone parents because they are all obese benefit-stealing chavs with the parenting skills of Tracey Connelly, is to belittle the very real concerns of voters who chow down on box.
Will this do, David?"
Stewart Silverspoon is Conservative MEP for the South West and is standing for the seat of Twatt in the next general election.