pieces of eight

Welcome ye all to Treasure Island
with Long John Johnson and his pirate advisors
cutlass deep in gold and diamonds

the public purse is there for the takin’
you won’t believe the profits we’re makin’
or the faces of regret we’re fakin’

avast there lubbers! make way for the Cap’n
who stole your gold while you were nap’n
and woke too late to stop it happ’nin

fifteen men on a dead man’s chest
which ain’t so hard as it suggests
when we pass this bill to stop the protest

so it’s yo ho ho and a bottle of rum
shoot the cannon and bang the drum
the jolly roger flies over the united kingdom

the wizard of boz

pay no attention to the man behind the curtain
that frantic, distracted kinda person
stamping on the pedals and levers
manipulating the unbelievers

pay no attention to the man behind the curtain
the yellow brick road has gone for a burton
you’re not in Kansas anymore Dorothy
not since they cheated on Brexit unfortunately

pay no attention to the man behind the curtain
how he got there no one’s certain
but if you march thru’ the Emerald City
he’ll clap his hands and cry ‘Fly my Priti’  

back in the bunker

look at all my soldiers and generals / nuclear cocks and toxic genitals / juiced-up jets of deadly decibels / cyber-slime & biochemicals / stately statues on monitored pedestals / yaah! honestly I’m incredible 

and I promise you this / non-proliferation’s on the fritz / so if you get on my tits / I tap this button you cease to exist / as easy as one off the wrist / ready to blow at a moment’s notice

if it has to be it has to be / whatever the weather we’re heading for catastrophe / and I’m more than happy to see / all you lot go before me / and then maybe / when all that radioactivity / returns to normality / after the usual diplomatic formality / we can hunker down as one big bunker family

It’s Bojo the Clown!

He runs round the ring with a fireman’s bucket
acting like he’s going to chuck it
stops, goes, stops, goes
pulls out a line of flags and blows his nose
jumps in a fire truck, sneezes
the whole thing falls to pieces
jumps back out, kicks it
fetches a play school toolbox to fix it
a big rubber mallet and a tube of glue
gets his hands stuck fast to his shoe
hops around howling
one minute laughing the next minute scowling
the shoe comes off in his hands; it starts to ring
he scratches his wig and stares at the thing
laughs, gives a shrug
cautiously holds it up to his lug
Hello? This is Bojo the clown…
puts his thumb up, gurns at the crowd
who roar with applause and laugh out loud
but suddenly the lights cut out
and one fierce spotlight picks him out
something’s changed; the act seems different
he’s not so cute and insignificant
he stands there, watching with glittering eyes
Yes – they’re ready for their big surprise.

Ghastlybury Festival

On the Pyramid Sales Stage:

BJ Johnson & The Old School Kickbacks
Richey Rich Sunak & The Corporate Cashbacks
Mort Handjob & The Splashbacks

In the Little Island Tent:

Ravin’ Williamson & The Witless Paraders
Pitiless Patel & The Choppy Channel Waders
Backstreet Jenrick & The Party Fund Traders

The Robert Peel stage:

Liz Truss & The Chlorinated Chickens
Robbie ‘Rob’ Buckland & The Unlawful Applications
Dominatrix Raab & The Dreadful Vibrations

In the Magical Avalon Marketplace:

Oliver Dowden’s Seaside Clown School
Old Mother Coffey’s Border Gang Patrol

The Michael Glove Puppets

Jacob Rees Mogg

BJ style guide

less Streep more Swanson
less Lee more Bronson
less Damon more Johnson

less Marcus Aurelius more Emperor Nero
less Diet Coke more Coke Zero
less Marvel more DC superhero

less Big Sur more Thetford
less King Arthur more King Edward
less Spongebob more Squidward

less Chippendale more Chippy
less Dior Rouge more Superdrug own-brand lippy
less Oscar Wilde more Mr Whippy

less Leibowitz more Happy Snaps
less standing ovation more slow hand claps
less Cary Grant more Grant Shapps

less family farm more pharmaceutical
less gritty documentary more hollywood musical
less callous more cuticle

less flotsam more jetsam
less hard hat more comedy stetson
less give some more get some

less fresh clean air more noisy compressor
less humming bird more heffer
less salt more Pfeffel

access all areas at the tory halloween party

And it’s a very chilly welcome to the blood red carpet 
at the 2020 Tory Halloween junket

And here comes Cummings the Mummy! / Hands-outstretched & talking funny / in a dodgy dealer kinda mumble / like he’s evil incarnate but somehow humble / We LOVE his comedy trips and tumbles / his bad boy beanie, his lanyard fumbles / adorably horrible / unaccountably trouble / COMPLETELY at home amongst the rubble

Stop everything! / Here’s Gove the Thing! / with his squamous hair and swampster bling / slime slinging / gill singing / venom venting / swivel-eyed blinking / …this is definitely a look that will have your heart SINKING / But still, I hear champagne glasses CLINKING / so he’s doing alright despite what you’re thinking

Folks – if you’re got the sickness, we’ve got the pill! / Because in glides the glamorous Priti deVille / smiling as warmly as a dentist’s drill / glad-handing with languid skill / the journos from the rags until / one of them innocently questions her will / and then – yep! THERE’S the famous, homicidal chill / colder than the moon on Cemetery Hill / (if we could only distill it / we could dominate the world with it)

Once again Demonic Raab proves why he’s too Ghoul for School! / The nude headmaster with the power tool / who has everyone fooled / with his urbane smiles and arcane rules / but who’s surprisingly cruel / a look-a-like Peter O’Toole / measured, suave & cool / who lets a great white in the swimming pool

Take a look at Jenrick the Jester! / Juggling his balls of polyester / A real firm favourite with the court investors! / The corporate clown with the Poundland sceptre / As nimble with his fiddle as his back protector / Setting off all the metal detectors / hilarious and nauseating in equal measure / Casts no shadow WHATSOEVER

And finally – in rolls the Pumpkin King! / Shocking! / Watch him laughing and waving! / That’s amazing! / Now I’ve seen everything! / Those spiky teeth sawing! / All that public school squawking & guffawing! / And I suppose – who knows? – it might be entertaining / if ‘tragically horrifying’ / was your thing / So there he goes, u-turning / backsliding & backbiting / hackwriting / gaslighting & guessing / a model of fun if it wasn’t so depressing

And – oh dear! Bringing up the rear – what a pity! / Is that supposed to be Professor Chris Whitty?

jesus boris

but Boris said: Suffer little children, and forbid them not to come unto me
(so long as they don’t want any more shit for free
especially nutritionally
and stare at me hungrily
and twitter on endlessly
about food poverty
they’re just being greedy
I mean honestly
find another St Francis of Assisi
you think it’s easy
being this bright and breezy?
with all you paupers gawping and making me queasy?)

for of such is the kingdom of Tory heaven
(now DO fuck off, I’ve got luncheon at eleven)

And he laid his hands on them, and departed thence
(after tossing some lighter ones over the fence
and evicting some others for non-payment of rents
and pleading for easier public events
away from the mob and the malcontents
like proving his regal munificence
by awarding contracts like Christmas presents
to a bunch of lovers and old school friends
glad-handing oligarchs and presidents)

here endeth the lessening


I had this nightmare

deep in the infernal workshops of Eton / comes the sound of heavy metals beaten / something awful occurring / sawing & drilling & whirring / sparks / arc flashes of acetylene / illuminating the hellish scene / till silence falls at last / and the quivering news reporters gasp / when bolts get thrown / the main doors blown / and boys rush out deploying their phones / as crashing into the taped-off zone / a gigantic robot PM appears / wild white hair and saucery ears / eyes clanking wide / hands flexing restlessly at its side / steam from its neck and other spots / babbling inanities non-stop

and after a moment’s hesitation / for huffing and puffing and basic orientation / the dreadful creation / begins its quest of devastation / rampaging round the nation / kicking down houses, hospitals, schools / using the Houses of Parliament as a football / picking up the Town Hall / shaking the screaming councillors out / stamping on them as they run about / laughing at their comical posing / unzipping a monstrous copper pipe and hosing / them over / then completing the general takeover / by tossing into the smoke-filled air / a handful of nanobots / Jenricks, Goves and Hancocks / who weave and dive with high-pitched yells / bewildering the poor population as well / till there’s no-one left with sense enough to tell / what needs to be done to break the spell

luckily, I wake up

public announcement

now – I know many of you are wondering / how a PM so blatantly bent and blundering / could still be up here thundering / about public duty / civil responsibility / new possibility / gesturing energetically / his hair photogenically / awry / flexing his fingers into the sky / like Lear having a good old crazy-cry / there, on the… on Haywards Heath / flailing and wailing, furious beyond belief / that the job of Prime Minister / could’ve been so damned difficult to administer / with nothing like the levels of Churchillian adulation / he wanked about in the Gladstone bar at graduation

no, my people – that’s all in the past / consigned to the social history bin at last / and thus the reason for this televisual broadcast / this rich and nationally nutritious repast / whose viewing figures will never be surpassed / (you see how well I work it? / I’ll be even better on the after dinner circuit) / now is the time for a serious reset / like having the soup instead of the baguette

so at the risk of losing my public speaking permit / and to paraphrase the immortal words of that Most Muppetous of Muppets, Kermit / To introduce our policy – That’s what I’m here to do – It really makes me happy – To introduce to you… / The Three Tier System!

(To simplify the thing so it’s easy to remember / we’ve linked it to the class of which you are a member)


Tier Three – is the NHS junkies / state school flunkies / wrench wielding monkeys / and anyone else without the moolah / to live anywhere south of Peterboorah

Tier Two – is the doubting Derby & Joaners / the middle-class, pain in the arse Red Remoaners / the lefty lawyers and artsy groaners / the Guardian reading eco-homers / the food bank donors / and sundry other disposable personas

Tier One – is the Oxbridge Eliters / the gentlemen’s club and country retreaters / the tax and grouse beaters / the market makers / slush fund rakers / contract breakers / working class haters / and anyone who’s ever worked at the Telegraph or Spectator

I do hope that clears up any confusion
and in conclusion

always, always remember…

Rule Britannia! Britannia, rule the Waves!
Britons ever ever ever shall be slaves!

I thank you