Monday, May 08, 2006

Mark Oaten: loves teh cock

Yes, yes, I know that the whole Oaten saga was rather sordid, and beyond my initial derision I was happy to leave him alone. However, the man has popped his head above the parapet again and, prurient though it may be, I simply cannot resist giving him another fisting... I mean, kicking.
The other driver emerged from his car, showed me a News of the World business card and said: “I think you know why we are here.”

I didn’t. My first reaction was that it must be something to do with the leadership contest. But why had they hidden the camera?

Then he said: “We have an allegation about a male escort . . .” He produced a photograph of the guy I had seen more than a year before. Until then, it simply hadn’t occurred to me that it had anything to do with my past relationship with a male prostitute. I had boxed that away deep in my mind.

Oh dear, oh dear. Here we are with a bit of pseudo-psychoanalytical bullshit. On ye go, Marko...
I keep reliving that moment. I knew that my world would change for ever...

As opposed to the earth moving when you were with yer bumchum, one assumes.
... yet I kept calm.

Yup. good man in a crisis, that Oaten fellow. Keeps calm, you know. Might be good for one of the trickier jobs; we could ease him back onto the front benches yet, O Ming.
If I had denied the story, the News of the World would have been unable to run it. But it never occurred to me to try to conceal the truth.

Oh, no. The man's a politcial nitwit. Forget I said anything, My Emperor.
We were standing in the utility room next door to the kitchen — where our daughters Alice, 9, and Milly, 6, were waiting for their breakfast. I told Belinda as succinctly as I could what the News of the World had discovered about me. Not only had I been unfaithful to her, but it had been with a young man. “It’s over for me,” I said.

Oh, to be a fly on the wall... "My darling, I love you, but I also love teh cock. Oh. I'm sorry, I've just cum."
She was shocked but, initially, calm. Within seconds we had to plan how to tell our family and friends and what to say to Alice and Milly. Trying to get them breakfast was awful — pretending everything was normal when our lives had just been blown apart.

Yes, that must have been awkward. Having to explain to your daughters about the birds and the bees before you're ready for it, and also having to explain about the bees and bees. And the bum-sex.

"Well, darlings, when two people love each other very much, sometimes they like to stick their dingle-dangles up each other's bottoms. And it feels good. No, darling, I can't make you feel good that way. You're too young and i'm your daddy..." [Flashback: "Yeah, bitch, who's your daddy now!"]
I had no doubt that I should resign as party spokesman on home affairs but beyond that I did not know what the newspaper was going to print and what the fallout would be. I knew I had been to see this guy and, whatever nonsense was reported, I had clearly done wrong and had to accept it.

Tell me, Marko; at what point exactly were you aware that you had "clearly done wrong"? Was it when you were caught, or was it when you were with this chap a year ago. Oh, it can't have been then because you'd boxed it away deep in your mind, eh, Mark?
I also called my mother and told her that a story would be appearing next day that I had been seeing this guy. She immediately asked: “What can I do to help?” Throughout the whole episode she has been a tower of strength and has kept me going through the bleakest moments.

Even though, inside, she's dying of shame. "I should have known," she murmured to herself, "he always had such a delicate touch."
As a result of the calls, friends started arriving in large numbers...

Did a lot of them remain standing with their backs to the wall, ay all?
Seeing people made me cry for the first time.

Tell me, was the rent-boy the man in this relationship...?
To see the raw hurt I had caused — to see people’s utter disbelief and the emotional trauma Belinda was now going through — was at the time almost impossible to take in.

For God's sake, you were just a naughty, little boy who's had some misdemeanor brought to light. You were perfectly happy to carry on as long as you didn't get caught.
Getting me away was a priority. Within an hour I was packed with a rucksack and passport ready to go.

By now the children had left, but Belinda was still there. Shortly before I went out of the back door, her calm at last gave way to fury. She tried to hit me several times and threw her wedding ring back at me — and who could blame her?

"So that's why you wanted me to strap my breasts down and let you do my up the Gary Glitter," she screamed. "You are such a little-dicked fuck I hardly felt the stretch as you entered my ring!"

Ahem. I imagine something like that may have taken place. These events are only based on a true story, but only in the same way as In The Name Of The Father or Braveheart...
I was pushed over the garden fence and ran to a car. We sped through back lanes, trying to check we were not being followed. I felt physically sick and in a virtual state of collapse on the long journey to a house at the other end of the country. I couldn’t eat. I didn’t eat for two weeks and lost half a stone.

And you're still overweight. A couple more scandals, and we'll drop your chances of a coronary by almost 50%...
It was clear to me that I would need help sleeping so I contacted my psychiatrist and he arranged to fax a prescription to a chemist.

Jesus Christ, here it comes...
The psychiatrist was keen to see me as soon as possible. With Belinda’s support I had been consulting him for several years, trying to tackle some of the reasons behind why I did the things that led to my disgrace. But, as I now realised, we had never really worked out why a 40-year-old married man with two children goes to a male prostitute. It certainly made no sense on that drive from my home.

Come on, Marko, it's because you love teh cock...
The two-hour flight felt more like two days. I overheard people saying, “How could he?” and “Those poor children”. Listening to strangers pass judgment on me as if I was some sort of animal was humiliating and sickening. I wanted to run away but was strapped in until touchdown.

Welcome to the world of consequences, Marko, my little poppet. Which world ahve you been living in?
Belinda was very strong and in control in a way I had never seen before.

Yup, who's the daddy now, Marko, and who's the little bitch, eh?
We had not been spotted by the press at the ski resort, but a camera caught me at the airport, trying to steal through incognito behind the Olympic gold medallist Kelly Holmes.

You what? Are you being serious, or are you just terminally fucking stupid? Look, son, here's a tip for you: if you really and truly are trying to avoid being seen don't, in the name of fuck, wander through the airport just behind one of the most well-known (and searched for) track stars in the world. You fucking twat.
FOR most of my life I have never had any doubts about my sexuality.

Apart from when you were diddling the rent-boy, apparently.
But I have now come to believe that a person’s sexuality is not such a black or white issue.

Well, fuck me, Marko, what a stunning insight. Tell me, how did you get to that one, eh?
One of the contributing factors was my unhappiness at work. To political observers it might have seemed that over the past few years my career had gone from strength to strength. I had one of the most high-profile posts on the Lib Dem front bench. The reality was, however, that not a day went by when I didn’t consider throwing in the towel. I had become a passenger to my own career, swept along by the enthusiasm of others and unable to control where I was heading.

Well, fucking diddums, frankly. You wouldn't know, being in your elevated position, but lots of people have a really fucking difficult time trying to get anywhere at all, let alone a half-decent job as a front-bench MP (admittedly, with a shoddy party, but beggars can't be choosers, eh?). And frankly, Marko, if you were having such a shit time, why on earth did you run for the leadership?
Very quickly, you lose control over your schedule and you end up trying to snatch time between late-night votes to call home and check on your wife and children, who lead a separate existence 100 miles away.

So, and I'll repeat the fucking question, why did you run for leadership of the party, which would only have entailed more time away? Are you suffering from the same disease as Hewitt, or what?
I think there was an element of escapism in what I did. I suspect that in part I was trying to reclaim a private domain in my life; but I’m also convinced that I was trying fatally to undermine my own political career. I could never quite bring myself to resign from the front bench and it’s as if I was daring the world to bring the whole thing crashing down.

Well, I'm no expert, but I would say that you succeeded. Of course, you could have simply said "no" when someone offered you something, but that would have entailed making your own decisions, eh? You coward.
Going to the local comp was pretty tough, I was the middle-class kid in a rough school but it taught me how to get on with different kinds of people. I believe I suffered academically, though. I left with only two Es at A-level and I’ve always had a bit of a chip about not going to university.

Ah, yes, it is Hewittitis, or terminal stupidity. Two Es is pretty unspectacular, Marko, to be honest. Your parents must have been pretty disappointed, frankly. I can imagine them now: "Oh, darling; I don't know what's worse: Mark getting two Es at A Level or being caught paying for bum-sex outwith wedlock..."
Charles [Kennedy] was often a little shy and withdrawn but for those lucky enough to be in his trust he was fiercely loyal and honest.

So I and my fellow MPs repaid his loyalty by stabbing him in the back, even though I didn't really want the job, but I did, but no, but yeah, but...
I can only say that a lot of people urged me to do so and I think I was driven on by this momentum. I should have been stronger and said no.

Yup, I said that 200 words ago. Get on with it, you fucking pussy.
I doubt that, on its own, my dissatisfaction with politics would have prompted me to act as I did, but it coincided with something of a mid-life crisis. I was turning 40 and I really felt that I was losing my youth. The problem was undoubtedly compounded by my dramatic loss of hair in my late thirties. This really knocked me for six. I started to look noticeably older.

Oh, for the love of god...

Basically, there's just a load more of this horseshit and I just cannot be bothered. There's just the last paragraph to address.
I don’t blame anyone but myself for the mess I’m in. I accept that I will always be known as a scandal MP; but, instead of living out the rest of my days in hiding, I’m determined to try to rebuild my life. I have no excuses for what I’ve done...

Hang on; you've just written two fucking pages of excuses, you dim prick.
... but I hope that by trying to explain what went on I can end the public fascination and move on.

Mark, seriously, mate, apart from the odd snigger here and there, we had entirely forgotten about you. Seriously. If you hadn't written this load of self-pitying crap for the Times, no one would have remembered you in a couple of months. Or is that what you are afraid of? Anyway, enough of this crap; just one last question...

Are you still loving teh cock?

4 comments:

Chris Palmer said...

A hilarious post!

But, let's be honest. We didn't really forget did we? and it wasn't the odd snigger here and there either.

pj said...

The telling Oaten lines are - "One of the contributing factors was my unhappiness at work...my career had gone from strength to strength." Just as if he was a branch manager of the Bradford & Bingley. Does it never occur to these people that being an elected member of Her Majesty's Parliament is a priviledge that should belong to those with a sense of public duty?
Sorry, stupid question.

The Nameless One said...

I am still stunned that the balding moron thought that this would never come out, what with him thrusting himself into the national limelight by running for the Lib Dem leadership. I mean, he was bonking rent boys for God's sake. This is a gift to the like of the News of the Screws.

Anonymous said...

bum boy mark oaten is and always has been a lying arse bandit. i hope he dies a very painful death.

Moonbat still loony

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