Don't Quote Me I'm a
Politician (c)
By
Michael Casey
You said you hate your
mother and you hoped she'd die a horrible death.
So Why should any of us
vote for you?
The Politician
splutters.
Well go on, explain
yourself FancyPants.
The lashing continues.
The Politician
continues to splutter.
The Interviewer
intervenes.
I'll just have to cut
you off there, Penny in Farthing.
The Interviewer
spotting his chance at radio fame takes over the lashing.
Why were you such a
BASTARD to your own mother, your only mother,
who gave you her titty
to feed you, to nurture you, you BASTARD.
The Politician regains
his composure.
I WAS 3 AT THE TIME,
SHE WOULD NOT LET ME WATCH POSTMAN PAT ON TV.
But that's still no way
to talk to your mother.
Thanks for coming in to
bore us with your policies, we won't be voting for you anyway.
Now on RadioQAZWSX
here's Dolly Parton with Stand by Your Mam, or Man
Whatever.
So now that everything
is recorded for Posterity, do Politicians have a chance.
Well no, we all hate
them anyway.
Close the garden gate,
and take your junk mail with you, I mean the junk male, the one
smoking his skunk as he leans on my gatepost saying how much he loves
trees. There's enough bark in what he's smoking.
Don't patronise me, how
much you are a member of the community, you've lived 400miles away
all your life. And as for your wife I've never seen her down the
local Tesco, or at the Bingo. And as for down the nail bar, she'd
never go to one of those. Mind you Tina's nail bar is the worst, not
even the rats would go in there. The Boomtown Rats that is. And why
should I vote for you? You and your girlfriends, I've seen it all in
The News of The World, so it must be true. What you give me an extra
100 a week if I vote for you. I'd suck your toes if you offered that,
of course I'd vote for you. Will you come in and I can practice, it
must be hard knocking on knockers all day. Just come in for a quick
cuppa, the BBC man has stopped following you.
Yes of course I'll vote
for you, I've always voted that way, never the other lot, can you
just help me peel a few potatoes for the dinner, it'll look good on
social media. The Politician comes in and peels potatoes, in the
kitchen she meets all the Politicians from all the colours of the
rainbow. One is making beds, another is vacuuming, another washing
windows, another is helping with maths homework. Upstairs an old man
is laughing his kilt off, that'll teach the bastards to come to our
house. I was Douglas Stewart air steward , the other one was on the
BBC, I used to get his mail by mistake so I kept all the stamps, I
had quite a collection.
So on it goes, we
neither like or love any politician, they are all in it for
themselves. But if they offer us anything, an electoral bribe of
course we'll vote for them. And we'll swear we'll always voted this
way or that way, or even the other way. For their's is the one true
way. So Help Me God, not that I believe in God, I only believe in
myself, I am a POLITICIAN after all the Cream.