Leadership Or Upwomanship

It seems abundantly clear that the moral grounding we receive in puberty is definitely being lowered by our so called leaders.  I suppose it has always been thus for the last 100 or so years and possibly longer, what with Asquith and Lloyd George playing merry during the Great War.  Even the death of Asquith’s son Raymond, at Guillemont in 1916  or his youngest son having his leg blown off whilst fighting for their country did not stop Asquith’s gallop.  Indeed Lloyd George kept shagging his mistress Frances Stevenson until he ran out of steam and life in 1943,  30 odd years of subterfuge.  Even old Ramsey McDonald dabbled a little but kept it all quiet until his wife died.  Later on Harold McMillan turned the tables and allowed his wife Dorothy, to be tupped by Bob Boothby, a real horrible bit of shit.  Until finally deciding to unzip his trousers whilst Ava Anderson and then Eileen O’Casey, wife of Irish dramatist, Sean O’Casey, inspected his private life,

In the 1960s, 70s and 80s things went a little quiet, being sheparded by those stalwarts of married life, Harold Wilson and Margaret Thatcher, although even they could not stop Edward Heath having the time of his life with any male in trousers under the age of 16.  Not many witnesses to this unfortunately because most of these boys died young.  Although  there is plenty in the media about Heath’s nefarious activities, I am taking my stance on this period from the stories an old friend of mine told me.  He owned a restaurant/pub in the New Forest and Ted was a good customer, especially at Sunday lunch when Jimmy Savile used to arrive in his Roller with handsome youths abundant, from which Ted took his pick and led the appointed home for high tea.

In the 1990s things got even better when a member of the MCC decided to  stroke a member of his cabinet whilst she was stroking his member in a broom cupboard in Westminster because it was dark, dusty and non-kosher but even the broom cupboard could not stop this liaison from seeping out.  A short while later even the Bliar could not keep his AC/DC activities quiet although his excuse was that he was married to the ugliest woman in chambers, a descendant of a family who specialised in knocking off Presidents.

Times past until it became the present and after a little toe sucking by one cabinet minister, there came a man into the fold who seemed to shag anything that moved and so delighted the British public that they voted him in with his flies well and truly opened by a good catholic lady who quickly gave him a bastard son and then persuaded him to marry her in the holy of holies, Westminster Cathedral, after a certain length of time had passed after his recent divorce.  Covid struck and left him dismayed so Boris, after whom this story is mostly about, promoted the blandest male in his party to be Minister of Health.  This man I think his name was Handcock and he had tried to keep every man and woman apart for the last 18 months whilst he was trying to poke his fingers up the bum of a pretty little piece called Gina Coladangelo.  They must have both been drunk on the Angel’s share of the wine barrel because they tried this manoeuvre in front of a camera so the whole world could see.  He went to see Boris who told him to hang on and it will all smell good.  It does show you how the moral compass of the world has changed.  Cock in hand and Angel’s share both with three kids apiece getting down and dirty, Boris telling them not to be so flirty but never mind, it will all blow over.  However the strength of the Tory party said no he has to go but their  only crime is not social distancing.  Fingers, arsehole, six children and two devoted spouses does not matter and on top of all that she, the drunken angel’s share, had been appointed non-executive director of the Department of Health by yours truly as he made sure she was well paid whilst his fingers went into her every orifice.  It used to be called broaching the barrel in the old days but now social distancing.  How mad have you all let the world become.

What I cannot understand is why this good looking bird of 43 and three kids deserted her millionaire husband for the ugliest looking man in Westminster.  It is understood that they first hooked up in Oxford 20 odd years ago so although time has done Handcock and Bull no good obviously he was a grizzly in Exeter years ago and size must have mattered.  After all of this no doubt he is hanging on to words Boris spoke last week when he said he was sorry to see old Cock and bull go but that it will not be the end of his political career.  Obviously we will see Matt’s cock suitably positioned for promotion to a newly formed cabinet post of Minister for the Propagation of All Things Nasty and Orificial very soon.

But this article although side tracked by Gina’s cock and still sucking is really about Boris and his inability to make sound judgements when trousers, zip and fingers come to the fore.  It seems to me the only way to become important these days is to be as immoral as you possibly can.  So all you budding politicos remember, it is OK to keep her indoors happy but you have to remember that the most important part of your job when elected is to bugger the trews off anybody with kids and husbands.  It is only right for men to prove their cocks are not there just to piss urine they always have more important work to do.

7 thoughts on “Leadership Or Upwomanship

  1. ‘Pin up boy’ Govey must surely be the ugliest MP in Westminster?

    Even Sarah Vine has called it a day with him after 20 years, with no other party involved.

    Believe that and you’ll believe anything.

  2. Paul, most of Currie’s liaisons with John Major happened in the early to mid 80s, not the 90s, before he became a Cabinet Minister. By 1989, he was in the Cabinet and by November 1990 he was PM. Apparently, according to her book, he was quite an accomplished performer. A real dark horse, our John.

    Most of his horizontal gymnastics with Edwina were much before the 1990s, that was one scoop that even the News of the Screws (RIP, not missed) failed to track down….

    Keep up the good work…

  3. Paul,

    Just to prove even I eventually get up to speed (you have to excuse me, I’m not as young as I once was), I noticed an article in the Bedian, dated October 2019, regarding the demise of ‘Flash’ Moynihan, at the age of 76. He was at Bedes, as a teacher, from 1966 to 2004.

    Until I read the article, I never knew his first name, he apparently arrived at the school in 1966, so you missed him by 3 years and I’d already been at Bede’s for 2 years when he came ( I started in September 1966).

    I was never taught by him. so I don’t know which subject he taught, or, surprisingly, how he got the nickname. I’d guess in those days it wasn’t because of any propensity for personal exposure, although in retrospect, it may have been. Was it because of flash clothes or cars, a genuine question here?

    I believe you crossed swords with him when he was a Governor at Bede’s and had several derogatory comments about him in your blog. Even though I was at Bede’s for the 5 years while he was there (1966 to 1971, when I departed, never to set foot inside the hallowed halls ever again), I never once spoke to him, or vice versa. He always reminded me of the sports presenter David Vine (the first presenter of the TV show, Question of Sport, when it first aired in 1970). I think I remember him being tall, with dark hair and wearing black plastic framed glasses.

    Have you any further info, or have I struck a nerve here, resurrecting old wounds? If so, I apologise in advance….

  4. In the UK, if a (male) prime minister has a mistress, everyone makes a big fuss (even though half the people making the fuss are doing exactly the same thing themselves). In Greece if a prime minister doesn’t have a mistress, they wonder what is wrong with him.

    Why do Brits go in so much for hypocrisy? (And it’s no excuse to say that Americans are even worse.)

    All I care about in a PM is that he/she is competent.

    1. Dear Linda,
      I think you exaggerate on the numbers taking mistresses. Politicos taking mistresses is all about power garnered from their positions. The fact that most of them are narcissists eases their minds.
      Competant PMs do not exist. They are controlled by higher authority which you in your Grecian wonderland must have known about by now.

      1. Paul, I agree that “half” is probably too high, if you take the phrase literally, meaning 50%. But if we interpret it in the looser, everyday sense to mean “a significant proportion” then I think it is true. (Have you lived a sheltered life?)

        As for competent PMs, they have existed. Winston Churchill, despite all his faults (which were many), was generally able to get things done, which is a large part of what being competent is all about in this context. The same could be said of a number of other historical British PMs. Sadly, it can’t be said of recent ones. Germany has had a reasonably competent leader for the last 16 years, Angela Merkel.

        Sadly, Greece has had a complete absence of good leaders ever since its War of Independence (1820s). You probably have to go back to Epaminondas, or even further back, to Themistocles, to find a really good one.

        I don’t know what “higher authority” you are referring to, but I don’t think it matters because I very much doubt that it exists anyway. What IS true is that people in high positions are far more constrained by external pressures than you might imagine. (The constraints can, sometimes, be so strong that it would be reasonable to talk of “control”. But not always.) However, I mean constrained by the real world, not by shadowy conspiracies, secret societies, Jewish cabals, the Freemasons, aliens from the Andromeda Galaxy, or whatever is the current flavour of the month. I saw this for myself in the business world. That is the main reason it is hard to get things done, even if you are in a position of power.

        A big problem with power is that the people best able to handle it are uninterested in power and so do not seek it. (So, by default, we finish up with the dregs of humanity at the top.) That was understood a long time ago. In the Middle Ages “nolo episcopare” was regarded as an excellent reason to promote someone to bishop.

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