Doctor Fucking What

I am fucking seething. I am angry beyond words. I cannot articulate my fucking fury. But I will. I have just watched the latest episode of Doctor Who several days late, thanks to Mr Rupert Murdoch's Sky + systemy thingy. What a pile of shite. How dare they do this? I have loved the new series but suddenly whoever this twat is who used to write Shameless, who has grandly written this episode about a bunch of Doctor Who fans, taking the piss, diverts it into a post-modernist ironic load of bollocks. Do not take the piss, you useless gay twat. Sorry, generally. Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks. Oh sorry, politics.....shit I can't be bothered.

Do I Really Need To Say Anything?

From Alastair Campbell via the capitalist interweb thingy:

Tomorrow England kick off their World Cup campaign. And you can follow their progress on Labour's website with myself and Sadiq Khan, MP for Tooting. Sadiq and I will be watching all the drama and excitement from Germany and will be blogging exclusively on the site. You never know... there might even be a bit of politics along the way. Please join us online and send in your comments. We'd be delighted to hear your views.
Labour.org.uk/worldcup
Alastair Campbell , one of Labour's World Cup bloggers

Re views: bet you wouldn't.

Two Jags Three Shags Two Dinners

John Prescott in Newcastle. Surrounded by his security men from London in a curry restaurant in the centre of town. Outside are the local plod, alert as ever to any violent mobs demanding he stop shagging his secretaries or playing croquet. The London rozzers shepherd the great man out of the restaurant, he having demolished a platter of rogan josh, pilau rice, vegetable curry and all the usual accoutrements. "Where we going sir?" says local plod. "Back to the hotel?" "Nah mate," says Bodie or possibly Doyle, the guys with the big bulges in their jackets. "Know a good Italian? He wants a pizza now." Tis true, promise.