The tedious old Godbotherer was wittering on about our politicians' Christmas cards. And while I am an atheist and couldn't really give a rat's fucking arse about the religiosity of the cards, I had to admit they are a rum old bunch of fucking cards:
The Prime Mentalist has this cheesy number:
Enjoy it, you snot-munching goat-felcher, it's the last fucking time you're going to be able to use that iconic image.
iDave has gone for some Tory brand-brandishing:
Classy, Dave. Just to remind everyone that you're a Tory.
That other bloke, you know the nonentity, what's his name?
A Mickey Mouse card from a Mickey Mouse politician, I suppose. But it's the start of the ego thing.
Then we've got the simpering buttmunch and his bike:
What the fuck is that about then? Who'd want to see this grinning cretin and his spawn on their fucking mantlepiece? It's enough to put you off your fucking sprouts.
And then the real stomach turner from Tony Bliar:
At least Bercow is happy, even though it's because the little fuck is troughing at our expense. Bliar just looks like he's got wind. Or he's remembered that he has to fuck slotgob that night.
But seriously, how big does your fucking ego have to be that you print a fucking photo of yourself for a Christmas card? How fucked in the head do you have to be? It's not like your fucking mates (if you have any) or your family have forgotten what you look like. And if they have, they can just look at the front page of the Sun or whatever.
Really, you fucking lunatics, get a fucking grip!