I’m just sitting here, minding my own business, watching the telly. The NuLabouremberg Rally from Manchester is on. ‘Chippolata John’ Prescott is on the podium doing his usual GBH job on the English language. First of all a moment of humility from the bulk-meister. He gets the delicate issue of him shagging the secretary out of the way. "To you, t'confrunce, A'd joost lack to saiy ow surry A am"...... Hmmmm, I wait for his apology to me and the rest of the 50 million, but none came. It figures...... Instead, humility now out of the way, Prezza starts to go through the gears of his very own 'arse-speak'. Pretty soon, he's pressing the turbo charger.
He’s going on about "The Enviiiiiiiiiiiro-mental Challenge"….. "The Torieeeeeeeezzzz"… "Grate Brrrrrrritin" and….. "The Labur Parrrrrty"
He’s shouting a lot, his big red moon face going redder and redder as more unreconstructed drivel fissure-glottals out of his gob. His vast podgy bulk is stooling in a pool of spit, broken consonants and oxymororonic invective – what a mess. Everyone is clapping – but not all in the right places. Like me, they haven’t a bloody clue what he’s going on about. In order to hide the fact that Prezza doesn’t actually ‘do’ anything anymore, it looks like he’s had another dive into the NuLabour Lexicon of Bollox – I think he’s trying to get every single word of that tome in his speech. Come to think of it, he does the same thing every single conference.
Hopefully, his head will explode before he gets to the end of it.