It Just Happens I Write Fast And

But If People Want To Swim In The Thames, If They Want To Take Their Lives Into Their Own Hands, Then They Should Be Able To Do So With All The Freedom And Exhilaration Of Our Woad-painted Ancestors.

I Have As Much Chance Of Becoming Prime Minister As Of Being Decapitated By A Frisbee Or Of Finding Elvis.

It Is Said That The Queen Has Come To Love The Commonwealth, Partly Because It Supplies Her With Regular Cheering Crowds Of Flag-waving Picaninnies; And One Can Imagine That Blair, Twice Victor Abroad But Enmired At Home, Is Similarly Seduced By Foreign Politeness. They Say He Is Shortly Off To The Congo. No Doubt The Ak47s Will Fall Silent, And The Pangas Will Stop Their Hacking Of Human Flesh, And The Tribal Warriors Will All Break Out In Watermelon Smiles To See The Big White Chief Touch Down In His Big White British Taxpayer-funded Bird.

The Next Tory Leader Would Have To Unify His Party And Ensure That Britain Stood Tall In The World.

Nothing Excites Compassion, In Friend And Foe Alike, As Much As The Sight Of You Ker-splonked On The Tarmac With Your Propeller Buried Six Feet Under.