Tuesday, 20 November 2007

It's a funny old world, innit?








Bill, the host with the most, explains the hiring of White House staff under Clinton.


The worlds foremost pair of clinical narcissists, the Clinton's, telephoned me last week, merely to deny that they had ever telephoned me. Bill asked about reversing the charges, or my wife completely dropping them. For a cool million or two...

What should one wear if Bill Clinton's coming? I'll get the wife to wear white! That’s why Bill got blow jobs in the White House. To hide the stains! By the way, Bill dropped in again yesterday and while I was busy, he took all the grapes from the table and must have hidden them in the small and crumpled bag he had with him, that wasn't Hillary.

I said, "Bill, have you seen the grapes that were here?" And I swear, he looked me straight in the eye and said, "There were no grapes on the table at any time!" Is there something wrong with Slick? Sheesh, a man can't even leave fruit unattended around a Clinton.

Al Gore also dropped by and I’ll never forget what he said.

“I enjoy collecting toffee wrappers during the week, so that if it is precipitous, I can spend Saturday afternoons spreading them out. Do you know that if you add the area of an entire lifetimes worth of wrappers that they could cover the New Hebrides? Of course, I could never consume such a vast amount of toffees. No, such a vastness would be out of my league. That's more for your professionals like Al Gore”.

Colonel Neville: “But you’re Al Gore”.

Gore: “If only I was Colonel, if only I was”.

Gore inspires me less than the feeling I'd get trapped in an eternal caravan park seaside holiday watching daytime telly in the rain, while listening to Scottish Favourites, the Mrs Mills Band and a BBC sound effects library record of a linoleum factory, while Ken Loach makes a 'real life' documentary of every moment of it over several decades, and my Mother never stops ironing, repeating endlessly “Who was that English singer again, you know, the one with the big lips? Was it Mark Jacker? Mike Jenkins? Marty Jammer?”

As luck would have it, Gore and Bill both came together, so to speak. Bill immediately grasped my arm with both hands, looked me straight in the eye as usual, and said, “You know, it's not sex that's over rated, it's not having sex that's over rated. Or having sex with people who think sex is over rated. Mind blowing sex is invariably under rated by those who don't rate at sex at all.

The more alive, energetic and complete a human being you are, the more you want to, and are able to share this with somebody who is hopefully the same. Lack of this or a boring and tragic mis-match is the basis of most if not all sexual frustration and otherwise.

By the way, do you have anymore of those delicious grapes?”


Colonel Neville: “Aah, hah! How do you know they were delicious, eh?”

Clinton: “Er, Albert told me. Hey, Albert! Did you finally finish that scale model of your Carbon Credits Company Headquarters? It looked exciting, man”.

Al Gore: “Well, thankyou Bill. In fact I haven’t yet. I need more power. But I should be ramped up enough to apply the decals next month …and do you know that the Australian bull ant can…”

I didn’t catch the rest as I gestured to Gore to stop with a wooden mallet and then I ran out the door and down the street screaming.

“You know” said Bill, as I returned with a makeshift ‘Cone of Silence' that he inhaled, “few people are serious about diarrhoea, but I am. I feel that the people of America deserve more. Al and I, and our many progressive friends in Hollywood where this movement all began, are going to get diarrhoea back on the screen where it belongs. ‘Diarrhoea! When do we want it? Never!’ What do ya think, Colonel?”

“Hey, the pizza’s here!”


"Hillary and I have got a great idea for universal health care that really is for the whole Universe! And, dig this. It won't cost a dollar! It can be funded entirely with recycled asteroids, easily processed into dry wall!" said William Jefferson, while he dried a cigar over a candle.

It was a funny evening. Al did his impressions of the living and Clinton, with his smooth and highly polished charm, in fact it was surprisingly shiny, eventually brought the whole table to a climax.

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