The bringer of jollity

This septic sputum smeared sphincter spasm, this orgiastic bonus bukkake fest, this Morris dancing Threadneedle Street maypole gang bang, this Morris Minor exhaust pipe fantasy daisy chain, this wet blanket woven of soggy public school biscuits, this punctured prophylactic brain drain, this debt plaque de-scaling instrument franchise finagle, this rape alarmed property ladder negative equity auction, this devalued pounding against the Feltch Index allowing competitive free trading with broads, this glory-holed lip service to double book keeping non-dom chin dribble, this pre-nuptial casual acquaintance failed organ pre-death tax donation clause, this pickled mirkin and mayonnaise greased mechanically recovered reconstituted substitute burglary. This broken Britain. We can fix it. Yes we can. Just ask Bob. Or Dave. Or Old Nick. Stay out of the red but refrain from true blue and an ineffectively hung yellow underbelly. Cash discounts, no questions asked. Brown recycled envelopes. Self-sealing.

(I prefer this emo-steroid enhanced version but embedding has been disabled.)

Disclaimer: Your constitution is not codified but encrypted in Morse code on insecurely stored flash drives left on public transport by lowly ranking civil servants. Voting is not a guarantee in the post modern movement towards the rejection of the first past the bed post representational arts. Your DNA may be databased and inappropriately used to reduce figured crime statistics. You may be shot several times at close range in the medulla oblongata for acting suspiciously normal in an independent investigation. Public inquires are not about attributing guilt but unattributable accidental best-intentioned ass covering. Your extended index finger and engorged genital protrusion ratio may be used to discount you from life insurance, benefits claims or post code fertility lottery winnings. Any unauthorised breaths are subject to a carbon credit trading surcharge, as well as involuntary tasered discharges. Celebrity paedophiles will be given one chance only on reality television, while unknowns will be given the cack-handed opportunity for redemption on manufactured talent shows if they agree to subsequently achieve martyrdom through contracting approved terminal conditions that could be cured if only the viewing public phoned enough premium charge information lines.

And smile. Keep smiling. Stiff upper and wobbly bottom lip. Bit. Like a Lancashire cat unable to metabolise Cheshire cheese. Please. And thank you. It costs nothing but money, sweat, infected blood and lymphatic tears. And ask not, but expect questions. Pointed, but not fingered. Line up, but don't look at the mirrored accuser. Ask not and get knotted. Hold on to your breeches on the beaches. And budget fight on the flight. Blooming busts, but don't knock the knockers.