Up until recently, Gordon Brown has been remarkable only in that every single piece of shit thrown at him by the media and opposition has stuck, to the extent that he should by now look like that 6ft turd of children’s television, Bungle, of Rainbow fame. However, by some miracle, he’s more than halved the Tory lead in the polls, and come out of the latest smear campaign cleanly, if not smelling of roses. Brown is alleged to have acted violently towards his staff, with the Chairwoman of the National Bullying Helpline claiming that several No. 10 staff had called her organization complaining about bullying.
However, it all went tits up for the enemies of The Great Leader when Christine Pratt, who looks like someone you’d end up in bed with at a shit middle-aged swingers’ party in Coventry, was forced to admit that none of the complains were regarding Brown, amidst a wave of resignations from the NBH board. If the polls are anything to go by, this hasn’t done Brown any harm at all: People don’t want a shrinking violet as PM; they want someone passionate who will come out swinging for the country when times are bad. I quite like to think Thatcher probably had a switch-blade hidden away in her handbag, ready to shank anyone who disagreed with her or that Major glassed a few people in order to get the Maastricht treaty through. Or indeed that Churchill plucked out his enemies’ eyes with his ‘v for victory’ sign and that, East-End style, Wilson spat vodka in people’s faces and lit them up like a Christmas tree with his trademark pipe.
The best thing to come out of this is an absolutely hilarious Hong Kong news channel video that shows a series of mock-ups of what is alleged to have happened; Brown goes round punching people for no apparent reason, and he spectacularly throws a slow-typing secretary across the room. The whole thing reminds me of that Family Guy episode where the Griffins move to Texas and encounter Chuck Norris, who goes round punching small children with a third fist concealed in his chin.
Go on Gordo: Next time that smug Etonian bastard shits on your economic record, lean across the dispatch box and nut him back onto the opposition benches where he belongs.