Thanks to Sam for these from the “Can Labour recover from the latest defeat?” thread.
(G)ordon B(rown) = Grown. Funny what our economy has Grown into. Little acorns. Sorry, i missed MP’s wages out. Wasn’t it long ago that the media was telling the unemployed to get jobs in the building industry? Yes. So much for that plan. B(row)n. Row us across to an island of Paradise. I’ll build a few cheap affordable houses out of Bamboo and tree leaf. In the cold winter i’ll take comfort in a stone cave and with a free log fire…Caroline Flint, (Flint) i need this to light a fire.
Nick, South Shields
Yeah. Um. That’s sparkling wit and dazzling wordplay, Nick. I always wondered who “Countdown” was for.
Here, I’ll help you out. Watch and learn as Metal Face Clive wins the open mic poetry slam.
prudence? inherited good economy robbed pensions stealth taxed EVERYONE to the max, reduced support for councils so taxes rise alarmingly, increased burden of civil service(and pensions) beyond belief, ripped motorists pitilessly, spent fortunes with little effect on services, encouraged irresponsible lending so when the wheel turns there is no leeway, raised in a manse forgot 7 good years and 7 lean years the worst chancellor on record. exams worthless crime rampant unions back election now !
clive pettitt, bridport
Some exceedingly conscious rhymes right there.
35 Responses to “(Poo)r Nick = Poo Nick”
N(ick, So)ut(h )Sh(i)e(l)d(s) = Nut Shed
which is almost like a nut sack. but bigger and more robust.
this wordplay thing is fun.
oooohhh..word play, i love these.
Right, if we take Nick, drop the N and and jump forward 4 letters, we get a lovely R. Then, if I have a quick rumage down the back of the sofa and find a P, we have PRICK. Yay!
The Stupid Gnats Chuff.
Cli(ve Petti)t (, brid)po(r)t
CLITPOT.
It’s where they’re stored in winter.
Reminds me of this , which I recieved in some spam a year or two back!:
Many outer shallow dose fears exits among Eliza’s humble shirt. My
filthy fig won’t recommend before I behave it. It’s very bad today, I’ll
shout tamely or Abu will attack the porters. When did Rifaat
move the ulcer towards the lazy carpenter? I was recollecting to
pull you some of my sweet units. Never kick frantically while you’re
dreaming towards a new goldsmith. Norm jumps, then Ronette quietly
changes a healthy cap on Rosalind’s winter. Who Mahammed’s empty
egg expects, Shelly wanders in front of poor, difficult summers. Just
lifting among a sticker around the structure is too blunt for
Eve to fill it. Better open films now or Simone will mercilessly
irritate them without you. Who lives grudgingly, when Hector
converses the stupid sauce over the shower?
It’s like some kind of rap song. I can just imagine him, Clive Pettitt, the whitest person in the universe, rhyming over a backing composed of samples of people tutting disappointedly at our terrible country and getting knifecrimed.
Arrrrrgh my ears
Bet they won’t print this.
Tell me!
Do you reckon Clive stopped with that exclamation mark becasue he spoffed, or were his typing fingers already sticky by that point?
Mock ye not or ye shall feel the wrath of Nick. A volcano of retribution shall be brought down on your houses. For “Nick” is a lyrical terrorist sticking it to the man: bringing down the imperialistic ZooNuLaborPeeEff hegemony with words of power.
“Nick, South Shields” isn’t merely a name and location; it’s a veiled instruction to the Army of Neds he’s got hiding across the border.
He’s lulling us into a false sense of security with his dazzling prose. But we’ll all wake up tomorrow to find a whole section of the North East coast missing – whisked away in the wee hours by the paramilitary wing of HYS.
Clive, on the other hand, is merely a cheesy bovine foreskin, rambling on to appease the whining voices in his head.
Bring back (b)rilliant Magg(i)e (T)hat(ch)er.
There’s something really disturbing about Nick’s post.
Whereas most HYS nonsense can simply be put down to stupidity, bigotry, racism or sheer fuckwittery, Nick’s writing has the air of something much deeper and quite psychotic.
I get the feeling that when he isnt raging against the machine he skins kittens alive.
becasue? becasue?
surely shome mishtake? Either I’ve been using the Grauniad’s spell checker again or typing one-handed is not the way for me.
Better put the old chap away then, eh?
[blockquote]exams worthless crime rampant unions back election now ![/blockquote]
Just out of interest, is this meant as
a) “Exams are worthless and crime is rampant. We need the unions back, and an election now!”
or
b) “Exams are worthless, crime is rampant and the unions are back. We need an election now!”
?
I like both.
oh for fucks sake.
I wondered if he was saying the unions fully support an immediate election. This lack of accuracy is the problem with expressing your stream of consciousness entirely in tabloid headlines.
N(ick), So(ut)h (Shi)elds
Can I have five consonants and a vowel please Carol?
Carol? Hello…?
Where the fuck is she?
Clive forgot to add the other scourge of Brown’s Britain. Namely a plague of semi-literate, drooling fuckwits daubing their ill-informed, Daily Express-inspired drivel all over the fucking internet.
i think it means:
“Exams are worthless and crime is rampant. Unions, back an election now!”
I assumed it meant “the unions are BACK!!!(shock horror cue fast dangerous film music), call an election now!!!!11!1!!”
Which one it is, he truely is a cock. Dead panda flange material I’d say.
*whichever
Give the fellow some credit. At least he didn’t make fun of Ed Balls’s name. Or make a shelter on the island out of Jack (Straw) and John (Hut)ton.
Or maybe he’s just no good at his own game, the seahorse clopper.
Surely if everybody is skint the first thing you’d get rid of is your internet connection. Instead it seems people are scrimping on their medication.
Interesting point Kelvin. Creative naming does now seem to be the domain of either the super rich -real Aquascutum – or the really poor – fake Burberry.
Trouble is that one will look great on a movie screen or album cover and the other will just look dumb on a benefit claim form.
Fucking Tab. Cunt.
I reckon it was:
Exams [are] worthless[,] crime [exisits and] rampant unions [are] back [to turn the country communist and then murder us in our beds], [we need an] election now [so we can re-elect Maggie, ooh Maggie, Maggie, MAGGIE*]!
Then he wipes his keyboard off and presses submit.
*I feel so dirty after typing that bit, also it was stolen wholesale from GTA San Andreas.
Wa N(ic)k(, South Shi)e(lds) r
I love the way that clive “attempts” to put in some punctuation but really doesn’t care. the brackets and a few comma’s then just a splurge.
And does anyone know what this means?
It’s an old song.
There’s a lady from France
Who was raised in a manse
And she likes to dance
In her underpanse.
A manse is a house inhabited by a minister of a Presbyterian, Methodist, Baptist or Unitiarian Church.
Mr Cat – “raised in a manse” is a reference to CLOWN being the son of a PREACHER MAN (I said Whoa!), the manse being the Scottish equivalent of a parsonage or rectory. Quite why so many webwankers feel the need to refer to El Gordo’s antecedents is beyond me – maybe they think that the son of a religious father should be above being Prime Minister, even in a zaNuLiarBore junta.
For some reason I imagine Nick from South Shields as David Helfgott of Shine fame.
Nick, South Shields = Total(Cunt)
Actually – this is some serious lyrical genius. Lets break it down into lines and picture Chuck and Flava attacking it to a Terminator mix
Rebel without a pause?
Bum rush the sound!
Someone should definitely set that to a backing track and record it.
I think it’s “Exams are a worthless crime. Rampant unions back an election now.”
I can testify that being raised in a manse (home of a non-conformist christian minister) does make you:
a) pretty fucked up.
b) Have one of two religous viewpoints, either very religous in a non-confirmist way, (generally wont believe in the literal truth of the bible), or militant atheism.
(N)i[on](c)k, South Shi(e)lds
Sorry – I got nothing better.
Oh wait.
Ni(c)k, So(u)[N](t)h Shields.
UnderHerd shows enthusiasm for the subject but must try harder if he is to achieve a pass grade in the Summer. Physical chatisement with either a flexible (e.g. belt) or a non-flexible (e.g big stick) implement may well improve his grade. At the very least, his penchant for quoting Jacques DuTronc lyrics should be curbed. Forcefully.
Anything with whistling sounds good?