Sunday, 5 April 2009

The One That Fails To See Why They Don't Understand. . .

And so it continues. This morning it is Hoon up to his bollocks in shit, with a story about how he claimed expenses for his constituency home whilst living in a grace and favour flat and letting out his London home.

Hoon has defended the story by saying it was within the rules.

Look, you stupid bastard, if the rules said that I had carte blanche to piss through my neighbour's letterbox and run down the cats on my street in my car, it wouldn't make it right would it? If I did those things, it wouldn't make me any less of an arsehole.

What you, and all the other snout-troughing venal arseclowns have done may (or may not) be within the rules. If it is within the rules, it is still wrong. Saying it is within the rules and then being given the all clear doesn't make us think you are OK. We still think you are a corrupt fucker stealing money from us, acting like a wanker when you get all upset over scans of expenses being touted around the media makes you look even more stupid.

This whole story about the scans being touted for £300k is an interesting one. The way the politicians have acted has been shameful. I don't blame whoever it is who has these scans trying to make a few quid, after all £300k is about two years' expenses for an MP.

Are they complaining about this chap making some cash? If so, cut the ground out from underneath him, publish and be damned. No? Didn't think so. For all the protestations about leaks and theft and ethics, the fact of the matter is that there are 646 people who are desperate to prevent anyone getting any info on their expenses. We're all told it's to do with security. Yeah, right. Well, a bit, because every time these expenses are leaked, the MP concerned is worried about a mob descending on his/her home with pitchforks and flaming torches. These itemised expenses records should be a matter of public record, right from the off.

MPs are like the smart-arsed prick at school no-one could stand. Spotty, greasy, shabby, no friends and a little weed. Who then decides to make smart-arsed remarks to the year's hard-nut and then wonders why he gets a smack in the chops for it.


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