Tuesday, April 01, 2008


Apparently, the Gobblin' King has been sticking his long nose into some debate about whether or not a bunch of overpaid irrelevancies should respect the referee, or something. I couldn't give two shits about football, but my impecunious Hellenic friend does extrapolate a neat point from it all.
Now, my first reaction, admittedly, was to think to myself that the decisions of referees in the Premier League are absolutely none of Gordon Brown's fucking business. But since then, I must confess, the idea has started to grow on me. I mean, read this bit again:
"Not only must the captain set the right example for the rest of the team; I believe he must take greater responsibility for the overall behaviour of his team-mates"

Yes, this is a splendid idea. I propose, therefore, that the next time a minister in Team Gordon's lineup launders money, or proves to be utterly incompetent, or launders money, or presides over a massive fuckup in their department, or launders money, then not only should that minister be sacked, but the captain of the Government himself should receive a yellow card.

And we all know what happens when you get two yellow cards.

Um... In this case, does two yellow cards mean that you get tied to a chair and then put in a windowless, soundproofed, concrete room containing nothing but your humble Devil and a piece of two-by-four...?


Serf said...

Talking of respecting the rules:

Can we have a referendum yet?

Budgie said...

Is there some mental condition that describes Brown when he is bull - well - browning like this? The man is a total, complete, galloping hypocrite. How he doesn't implode as a result of his own self-contradictions is a wonder of nature.

witchibus said...

Wasn't sure where to put this, but thought you'd be interested in this article from yesterday's Times on government taxation vs voluntary patronage of the arts.


David Gillies said...

Gordon Brown's acceptance of true responsibility for his actions and those of his underlings could only take the form of a brisk, Ceauşescu-style march out of Number Ten onto Horse Guards to be met with a lengthy fusillade of rifle fire.