Speaking of serial liars who deserve to be hit with sticks, no, it’s not Iain Dale, either. I did consider burning Ashcroft and popping Iain in the pocket until I realised that Iain would have to be in more intimate and out-of-sight location for the voodoo to work. Then I realised I’d have to stuff a certain nuisance-calling twat up the arse on an effigy that was already up the arse of another effigy, and the whole thing just got too damn Russian for me, so I scrapped the idea.
Speaking of morbidly obese outright bastards with a love for vodka, no it’s not Paul Staines (aka ‘Guido Fawkes’) either, because I’d have to pickle the bloody thing in alcohol to get the voodoo right on that one. Not a good idea anywhere near flaming torches and other naked flames, and not something I can afford, even with some of the ‘cheap booze’ specials advertised on Paul’s* low-rent banner advertising network.
(*Note – “Paul Staines is neither a shareholder, director or employee of MessageSpace and never has been.”)
And finally, no, it’s not a banker or a hedge-funder, because if I were to take a guy, make it suitably fat, stick in it a ‘city boy’ shirt, and put a screwed-up ball of grubby fivers where its heart should be, I’d be stuck with Paul Staines all over again.
So who (or what) is going on the bonfire this Saturday night?
Can you guess?
(No hints from the small group of people who already know, please.)
This entry was posted by Tim Ireland on November 7, 2008 at 11:04 am, and is filed under Guy Fawkes Night. Follow any responses to this post through RSS 2.0. Both comments and pings are currently closed.