Dangerously Ugly Phuckers II: An Observation
What is it with politicians' busted grills? The Department has already exposed that particular breed of figurative and literal ugliness that is the DUP, but New Labour are no less repulsive.
Figuratively: War, missing weapons of mass destruction, dead folk, limbless children and all that unpleasant brouhaha.
Literally: Have you ever seen that face that Gordon Brown pulls between sentences? The one where it looks as though he's had a stroke of the lower face. Well, if there's anything that the recent sex offenders in schools fiasco in the UK has taught me it's that Ruth Kelly does the EXACT opposite. It's as if her jaw is on a sprung hinge, snapping her face shut between talk. The sooner her flobby fizzog is off my telly the better.
Gordon Brown
Ruth Kelly
7 Mewling Pricks
Putting your own photo-portrait next Ms. Kelly's was a gratuitous and ungentlemanly insult, rubbing in the fact that you are even better looking than her.
Jesus, Double D. That wisecrack is so lame I'd advise you to follow up immediately with a claim that your doppelganger is responsible for it. The Real Duff can do better than that shit, surely.
Well I'm just glad I didn't have to point it out myself this time!
On the other hand, it is disappointing that my imposter is failing to maintain the consistently high standards required of a David Duff!
Yes, 'Snotty', I must admit, it wasn't up to my usual standard. Sorry!
Apologies accepted, Davids. Now pull up your britches and get out of my classroom.
Actually, that face reminded me of an incident in my past when I was running a very up-market car showroom in a high-rise development with a caberet night-club on the roof. One day the late, great Les Dawson wandered in (he was appearing up above) and looked at a Merc we had on display. He just stood there staring for several minutes in silence whilst I hovered unctiously, until finally he turned with an absolutely straight face and asked, "'Ow mooch?" I told him the almost obscene price and he made no re-action, he just stared at me, and then, very, very slowly, he did that lip-curling thing like the old guy in the picture and then turned on his heel and left, by which time I was leaning on the Merc howling with laughter. A very funny man and an enormously literate one, too. I went to see his act, and his descriptions of a setting, particularly a country scene, which would eventualy lead up to a punch-line were almost poetic.
(Oh God, what a boring old fart I'm becoming! Sorry again.)
The "lip curling" thing is called gurning. You cunt. If ya gonna do da duff, do it propa.
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