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.
Baxter Bistock declares WAR – on making up stuff about wars
THIS IS WAR CUNTS. And it's a very "winnable" war, with specfic, measurable and achievable objectives at that. I am going to hunt down Defence Secretary Bob Ainsworth with a pitchfork and plunge it repeatedly into his pleading, buggly eyes. Imagine that! He won't be expecting it, of course. I'll creep up on him in the dead of night, when he's watching Desperate Romantics with his pants down his ankles, and kaa-bam! Ainsworth Blood Pie all over the living room walls. Yes, I will be his personal Angel of Death, and it will be a mercy killing.
And why, you whimper, will I be signing up to this worthy military campaign? Because I am sick to the back testicles of Dildos in Suits telling Joe Voter that we are nanoseconds from definitively winning overseas wars when in fact we are very much engaged in their humiliating loss. This week, Ainsworth - whose facial expression perpetually reminds you of Mr Potato Head being disfigured by a cheese grater - was on the Bisto Roast, patiently explaining to me that the daily roll call of young men exploding in a gruesome firework display of dismembered limbs by the roadside is somehow a GOOD THING and that if we only just FUCKING BELIEVED THE MORONIC TWAT, we could secure everlasting peace in Afghanistan, and have our boys all back by Christmas, mission accomplished.
So what was the purpose of the glorious mission? Anyone remmber? Oh yeah, there were two main things we needed to achieve: 1) catch Osama Bin Laden and prevent terrorism thriving there and being exported here 2) having secured peace, install democracy and re-build this shattered nation-state. So what of the first? WHERE THE FELCH IS OSAMA BIN LADEN? Whoops! We screwed up a bit there didn't we Bobby boy? After EIGHT YEARS you don't have a shitting clue where he is, do you? Meanwhile terrorist threats break out uncontrollably over the place like herpes. And secondly, as the Afghans go to the polls on Thursday, in the first "free", "open" democratic elections held in the country, to vote for a possible 764 candidates who are all standing on a platform of letting husbands starve their wives, the Taliban have identified each and every one of them as a legitimate target to take pop-shots at, and still NOTHING IN THE GOD-FORSAKEN LAND WORKS. Hospitals? Shut. Electricity? Intermittent. Water-supply? Off. Happy trails cunts!
Ainsworth's only the messenger of course, but he'll do. He can take one for the team: a succession of barely sentitent imbeciles reciting the same script that we had to stay the course because certain victory is in our grasp; that the hearts and minds of the Afghans are almost locked into the liberal Western mainframe, and now the very fact that we have passed the 200 mark in the British death-toll, that more British soldiers have died in this war than in I-cunting-RAQ, and that we, the Russians and virtually every other advanced military state has had a pop at this wretchedly hostile country over the last couple of centuries and UTTERLY DOLPHIN-FISTING FAILED, is only proof that we must try a little bit harder.
Well let me try a bit harder to get it through your inpenetrable cranium Ainsworth, you moustachioed cunt (and as a side note, how can you *ever* trust a man with a moustache?): We are F-U-C-K-E-D. We are being slowly and painfully gang-raped to buggery in Afghanistan. We will not win this war before hell itself hires an ad agency to give it a makeover as a "relaxing family holiday resort with a wonderfully temperate climate". Bereft of fully-functioning helicopters, bomb disposal equipment or indeed ammunition, and completely scoobieless about the historical, religious, socio-cultural standpoint of our enemy, we have as much chance of winning this war as General Custer had at the battle of Little Bighorn, at the moment he was being encircled by 2, 000 livid native indians, and vigorously skull-fucked by Crazy Hourse. Is that what you call winning Ainsworth? Is it? Is being vigorously skull-fucked by the natives a "winnable" situation? Get out of here Bob you pathetic excuse for a defence minister, before I ram an IED up your flabby posterior and set wild dogs on you before I detonate it, you has-been cunt.
CUNT OF THE MONTH: Boris Johnson, for calling time on bendy busses in London. It was only an eye-catching manifesto promise! You didn't actually need to throw shed-loads of good money after bad, you incompetent foppish twit with hair by Wurzel Gummidge.