Saturday, November 29, 2008

My Debt to Labour

The Prem does Nothing (Good)


Mr Gordon "no-billing-to-his-name" Brown has had the cheek to attack Cameron at PMQs this week for "doing nothing" and being head of the "do nothing" party.

Since Cammy is a voyeur of the Commons kind, having to sit on the Opps bench with mouth and hands bound by Stalinistic protocol that gets you thrown in the dock for having a sneak peek at Gov data (TTG hears you, Damian!), 'tis not surprising that Cammy doesn't do anything really.

Us Trueblues need our right hand man out on the Parliament front not in gaol.

Besides Gordy, Cam does do something, he makes your skin crawl, he slams that clunking fist of yours into your gaping Poker ridden mouth each time at the Dispatch.

He also makes some pretty nifty propaganda pieces.

So where on earth does Gordon get this idea that Cam, the boy does nothing?

STEP IN POP TART ALESHA DIXON

Apparently Alesha is set to perform her latest pensworth choon, the outrageously irritating 'the boy does nothing', for none other than Gordon and his wife, who she luvvs.

Gord for her. Evidently her brain power is set at zilch if she eyes a sing-off for Gordon as her stairway to success. Cos Brown's head will roll down that staircase at the next General Election, if he bothers to call one. Which he won't. Commie cunt.

For those fortunate few not to have heard the tackius crappius song of Alesha's, bad luck - you're about to hear it now, TTG style. See vid below lyrics



The Prem does nothing (good)


I got a Prem with two left feet

And when he finances his own seat

I really think that he should know

That we want him to go go go

(repeat)

CHORUS
Is he washed up? Yes he's washed up

NHS cleaned up? No, NHS not cleaned up

Does he crush Opp?Never crushed us

He does nothing the Prem does nothing (repeat chorus)
Hey Gord how you been?
I ask a thousand times
Can you stop that grin?
And II been here, been there
Campaigning
I saw you fight your corner
My jibes kicked in
And
Two fields
I clock you
Wearing tight jeans
A real nice suit
He was smiling like you
Was just seventeen
I asked him for his stance
He said ‘yes please’

Take a sip of stancing juice
Everybody’s onto you
Through the left and to the right
Everybody hit the rhythm
It’s on tonight
I’m gonna feel the heat within my soul
I need a Prem to take control
Let the melody blow you all away

CHORUS
Is he washed up?Yes he's washed up

NHS cleaned up?No, NHS not cleaned up

Does he crush Opp?Never crushed us

He does nothing the Prem does nothing

Work it out now
Work it, Work it out now

Do it dumbo
Rake it all around now
Everybody on the floor
Let me see you clap your hands
I wanna see you work
I wanna see you move your body in turn
I wanna see you shake your banks and learn

I wanna see you work it, work it, work it out now

I wanna see you work
I wanna see you move your body in turn
I wanna take all your tips and earn'(ings)

I wanna see you work it, work it, work it out now

CHORUS
Is he washed up? Yes he's washed up

NHS cleaned up? No, NHS not cleaned up

Does he crush Opp?Never crushed us

He does nothing the Prem does nothing (repeat chorus)
And if the Prem can’t stance, he gets no second chance (at the ballot)


Monday, November 24, 2008

Robbing hood: Take from the rich, take from the poor later



Last week, TTG revealed that the Cabinet were actually undercover Borrowers and they have been more than happy to make the most of their status, flashing our cash and others.


Determined not to budge on the spending in their pre budget plans, you will never guess what they have up their sleeve? Yes, you're right, even more crazy ideas to erm, get us out of debt by spending more. And a whopping £231 billion more than planned at that.

But don't worry, so that we don't start picking on their air tight fiscality and point out namely its idiocy, they have fobbed us off with apparent cut in VAT.


VAT's right folk. For 13 months, we can enjoy 15 per cent rate as opposed to the usual 17.5 on goodies like cans and cars All good and well, but they're forgetting (or omitting) to tell us that the condition for such selfless lavery is that national insurance for ALL will go up.


The rich, having the poorer deal, will in 2011, have to cough up 45 per cent of their wages in tax as well as the half rate top-up fee for their national insurance.


But the poor haven't been left out either. For the duty on booze is set to rise to cover their kind and gracious VAT cutdown. And as you may well have read, there's not much use casting your eyes abroad for that sweet drop of booze, ciggy take or car gas. Cos in the spirit of unfair trade, Brits can't possibly get a cheaper quote or deal on their beer. No, that goes against Labour's economic protectionism.

They want YOU... to pay designer price tags, just so they can get by. Because ripping us off hasn't helped them enough already.

In a twist to the Robin Hood tale, Gordy and his men are taking from the rich, giving to the poor but taking from the poor later on. Robbing is their middle name, ruining neighbour hoods is their game.

Like a magician, they fool voters one by one, lulled by a false security that Labour know what they're doing - TTG must have missed that hypnotherapy session with Gordy.

C'mon, how can any sane being really be led to believe that borrowing and unravelling debt is the solution to world peace?

Well Ole Darling seemed to believe his own excrement.

So to spell it out for red Labour -

MONEY DOESN'T GROW ON TREES

Don't be surprised if the terrible Chancellor two have to declare Britain bankrupt in the next three or four years because £300 odd billion doesn't come from thin air.



Friday, November 21, 2008

I Kissed A Tory...And I Liked It


Kiss a Tory...taste success


TTG has been terribly lazy of late, and instead of pain stakingly penning rhymes and parodies, has instead borrowed the literary gravitas of Reginald Fah-Fah.

He could put Katy Perry to shame with this one!



I Kissed A Tory...And I Liked It

This was never the way I planned
Not my intention
I got so brave, Champagne in hand
Never lost a by-election
It's not what, I'm used to
Just wanna try you on
I want to vote for you
Caught my attention

I kissed a Tory and I liked it
The taste of success in local constituencies
I kissed a Tory just to try it
I hope Baroness Thatcher don't mind it
It felt so left
But also so right
Will soon be in power tonight
I Kissed a Tory and I liked it
I liked it

No, I don't even know your name
It doesn't matter,
You're my experimental game
Just human nature,
It's not what,
Good candidates do
Not how they should behave
My head gets so confused
Hard to obey

I kissed a Tory and I liked it
The taste of success in local constituencies
I kissed a Tory just to try it
I hope David Cameron don't mind it
It felt so left
But also so right
Will soon be in power tonight
I kissed a Tory and I liked it
I liked it,

Us Tories we are so magical
Hard nosed, blue rosettes, so kissable
Hard to resist so political
Too good to deny it
Ain't no big deal, I'm economically liberal

I kissed a Tory and I liked it
The taste of success in local constituencies
I kissed a Tory just to try it
I hope John Major don't mind it
It felt so left
But also so right
Will soon be in power tonight
I kissed a Tory and I liked it
I liked it


Sunday, November 16, 2008

TTG's Contro-verse -16/11/08



CONTRO-VERSE


Georgie gets a Pound-ing


Ozzy better start counting his retirement pennies as his recent "gaffe" or as TTG sees it, TRUTH that there would be a 'run on the pound' didn't have pal Cammy's backing.

Here's TTG's penny worth on our fab credit cruncher.

Much ado-ugh about nothing, if you ask TTG! Just because Broon doesn't want to open up that his so-called golden years as the Iron Chancellor were actually a well orchestrated piece of fine PR, it doesn't mean that his critics are wrong.

As far as TTG is concerned, in total naivity on matters of monetary, being a Borrower doesn't fix debt, it just makes you go further into the red (just how Gordon likes it - commie bastard)

Yes, there is a recession. Yes the country has hit the fan and now the pan as we go panning for gold in countries we have no business sniffing around.

The pound is at a thirteen year low - It's not as if Oz plucked the idea out of the air. It adds up.

Well done George for pounding the truth out there. As the Scouts say, we need to Be Prepared. C'mon, let's be frank. What's the worst that can happen? We've got the credit crunch, a state where anarchy is the head, with its tracksuit, knife wielding-4 pixel camera equipped happy slapper yobs, keen to get that picture of you sprawled on the pavement.

And yet even with the country wheezing, inhaling its last breaths of prosperity, polls suggest that Labour, the party that with its wishy washy namby pampy distorted soft socialist ideals are scrambling up to poll position.

Ha ha ha. Very funny. You almost got TTG there....oh it's a serious claim? You must be joking? How on earth can Labour be only five points away from the Tories? 'Cos last time TTG checked, unpopular Broon was er, still securely tipped to the top.

Maybe it could be convincing if that not so hot Scot had been the subject of a power coup but unfortunately the arrogant smirk is very much in the air.

It's almost as unbelievable as the Fife election result...Well Gordy, you do have a top voting record, with many of them signed under your own name.

Is that the General plan too? Rig the ballots and do a "2005"? TTG has heard the latest ICM and MORI poll liners - are you basing your growing popularity on questions that refuse to let you damn the Government?

Fabrication, fabrication, fabrication. The one policy you didn't copy from the Blue ring.

And talking of policies, are TTG's kidneys still on the menu? TTG sees that bodysnatchery and the presumed ability to seize our organs is set to come back in 2013. A bit confident, eh? You really think that Britain will vote in Labour again?

Silly TTG, what with your called-upon convicts with the franchise, there's no way you can lose.


It's a hard knock life for us, the law abiding. We will spawn a generation of teens, dreaming of a life behind bars. Where total escapism is rife, where cons don't face bills, changing nappies, taxes.

For the higher on the crime chain you are, the higher the perks. Forget just consoles and cushty flat cells. But shorter sentences, free bodyguards, no call on your life and the ability to put to the back of your mind the lives you destroyed climbing to that notoriety.

A celeb lifestyle without an ounce of hard graft.

And if the Gov thinks TTG is going to pay up for the perpetrators of the horrific sadist abuse of Baby P, they've got another thing coming!

As you will have read, Baby P, was tormented for the duration of his short life. Nails ripped off, back broken, a human punch bag for the two people who were meant to nurture and mother him.

But what of his abusers? Will they pay the price with an "eye for a eye", or in their own flesh? Of course not. They will be forgiven, pardoned, protected but most importantly rewarded for their abuse against humanity, against a defenceless child.

The justice system is a joke, run by nothing more than a bunch of hyenas,. predators centred on their own self-preservation with no conscience for those they dragged behind in the dirt.

Kipling's poem Hyaenas could be written today to sum up the social services, the doctor and the parents, all part of this tragic travesty of justice.



After the burial-parties leave
And the baffled kites have fled;
The wise hy├Žnas come out at eve
To take account of our dead.
How he died and why he died
Troubles them not a whit.
They snout the bushes and stones aside
And dig till they come to it.
They are only resolute they shall eat
That they and their mates may thrive,
And they know that the dead are safer meat
Than the weakest thing alive.
(For a goat may butt, and a worm may sting,
And a child will sometimes stand;
But a poor dead soldier of the King
Can never lift a hand.)
They whoop and halloo and scatter the dirt
Until their tushes white
Take good hold in the army shirt,
And tug the corpse to light,
And the pitiful face is shewn again
For an instant ere they close;
But it is not discovered to living men—
Only to God and to those
Who, being soulless, are free from shame,
Whatever meat they may find.
Nor do they defile the dead man’s name—
That is reserved for his kind.



TTG dedicates this song for little Baby P, who with God's grace can now rest among angels and archangels and all the company of heaven.

Baby P must be the last child to see only a life of pain - life is beautiful and no other children should see otherwise. It's time we brought out the Samaritan in all of us and stop abuse now.





Saturday, November 08, 2008

Political game for a laugh

Determined not to mention the F word* and start off a tirade of frustrated rant, TTG has turned to the internet to forget her world woes.

Glasgow based T-Entreprise, flash gamers who mock the week's news, have made this beauty of a game 'run Clarkson run' after the Top presenter put his controversial gear up a notch when he said lorrydrivers routinely murder prostitutes:



Check out TTG's faves below:

Puck Palin - Hockey mum Sarah shoots and scores as she smashes Obama's campaigns in this ho0ckey themed game.




Gordon Brown and the Raiders of the Lost Passports

Drive around Westminster, collect passports and try not to kill tax payers (or do if you like)




*Fife - Labour gets in again in Glenrothes - sigh.

Sunday, November 02, 2008

EXCLUSIVE: Tony Blair wins Presidency


Winner of US Election 2008: Tony Blair



Well the votes haven't yet been all been penned but TTG has a sneaky suspicion, not influenced by the polls whatsoever, that changeling Obama is next to step into the Presidents' hot seat.

While TTG was convinced the Old Arrogant POW (OAP) would have his dying moments in the Oval as Mrs Palin gets off her knees to announce herself as the US Pres, TTG was utterly butterly wrong.

In the midst of capitalist collapse and rich bankers having to trade in their exec cars for a model three years older, it seems the world would rather have the last laugh and giggle at the expense of rich sods losing their cash to the wind.

Apparently Socialism is their preferred solution... despite that when Capitalism last crashed on its costly anus, the rise of the Reds left us with not a lot to play with. One Cold War and plenty of sateillite countries brainwashed by Romanov Ruskis.

Still, if the Yanks prefer to believe that they will sit in a hippy drum circle, holding hands with Proles and billion dollar men, each with the same pay packet and free health care at the touch of a button, then go ahead. Vote Obama.

He's an affable geezer, yes, but how long will it be 'til this Disney dream prince novelty wears off?
For behind the words and the sexy striped suits, lies inexperience, and a very American Tony Blair.

He is a wide-eyed twenty something intern, convinced the world's woes can be remedied with a flash of his seductive smile. That poverty can somehow be reversed with a speech. Just like his pal Tone, the man whose risks and oratory took Britain to its knees before he buggered off to cash in on the UK's misera.

Good luck America, this vial of truth will be hard to swallow, but you're the next world power to fall for one man.




An anthem for doomed booths

Little donkey, little donkey on the campaign road

Got to keep on plodding onwards with your precious load

Been a long time, little donkey, through the election night


Dont give up now, little donkey,

Washington's in sight

Swing out those votes tonight

Washington, Washington


Follow that Red Star tonight

Washington, Washington

Little donkey, little donkey, had a levy day

Little donkey, carry Marx safely on his way

Little donkey, little donkey, journey's end is near

There are yes-men waiting for a sign to bring them here


Do not falter little donkey, there's a Red star ahead

It will guide you, little donkey, to DC ahead.

Rig out those votes tonight

Washington, Washington

Follow that Red star tonight

(to) Washington, Washington

Little donkey, little donkey, had a levy day

Little donkey, carry Marx, safely on his way

Little donkey, carry Marx, safely on his way