Tuesday 3rd December – The Cowardly Prince, the Witch and the Wardrobe.

Well, things are looking up.

By way of balancing out the despicableness of their shuddersome, lose-your-lunch kiddy-fiddling, I think Atrocious-Andy and his repugnant sidekick, Ghislaine Maxwell, are ethereally inviting us to join them in a rousing game of ‘Where the fuck are we?’ 

A deviously cunning ploy on the Disgusting-Duo’s part, and a scheme that can’t possibly fail. I’m distracted, I’m intrigued, I’ve almost entirely, completely forgotten the image Virginia Roberts painted of Odious-Andy ‘heaving around on top of her’.

But anyway yes, ‘Hide and Seek’, love it. 

I’m all in.

And frankly, I think it’s a really considerate gesture when everyone’s getting all weird about, and having to keep talking about, stuff like sex trafficking and paedophilia.

Such a buzz-kill when we’re right in the middle of the most wonderful time of the year.

So, challenge extended.

Challenge accepted.

When a riddle needs unriddling or a puzzle needs unpuzzling, I find it’s always a winning strategy to start with what we know.

What do we know?

Well, we know that whilst bravely defending the peoples of the British Commonwealth during the Falklands war, Vice Admiral Pervert was so shook by the sound of a nearby bullet that his system went into a state previously unknown to anthropological experts. The Vice Admiral completely by-passed the standard model of ‘Fight or Flight’ and his most Royal Duke-iness entered what can only be described as blind, unadulterated faeces inducing panic. 

His system was so overloaded by terror that his Sweat-Box imploded.

That’s brutal bruv, nothing so serious has ever befallen a soldier, not during WW1, not during WW2. Thousands of men were sandwiched between advancing German soldiers and the English Channel in 1940 and not one suffered the indignity and horror, during their prime sweating years, of their sweatability being so cruelly snatched from them.

So, it’s probably safe to say he isn’t hiding anywhere where there might be loud noises which means we can rule out anywhere where a car might backfire and most importantly, children’s playgrounds. 

Phew,

Yes, it’s a thinker and no mistake, where can he be?

Given what Virginia said in her Panorama interview, I have to admit my first idea was that he was hiding in the bath since he seems to like them so much, but then I was like ‘Durrrrr’ he’d need a teenage girl to keep him company if he were bathing and now that Epstein’s all dead and that, he probs can’t get none.

Someone’s wardrobe?

No, most parents check their kids wardrobes at bedtime.

I’m kinda leaning more towards Pizza Express, maybe not the one in Woking where he likes to lurk about at children’s parties but probably another one. I doubt very much if he’d want to eat his pizza and cheesy garlic bread anywhere near any poor people so I’m thinking somewhere around West Kensington.

The Cotswolds?

Jeez, so many Pizza Express’ so little time.

As for Gruesome-Ghilaine, well, her family have got form for trying to hide either on boats or rather,  underneath them, so we need to get a bit creative when trying to track her down. To be fair, I think her Dad did actually start off trying to hide on his boat but probably some very bad people that he was in danger of pissing right off spiritedly changed the rules at the last moment – which is obviously nothing at all like the current Maxwell predicament.

So, in the search for Monstrous-Maxwell, she’s definitely somewhere at sea, bobbing about with a pair of binoculars super-glued to her face and I can’t narrow down her location anymore precisely than that except to say, we should probably be looking for a boat called ‘The Irony’.

The predators become the prey.

Come out, come out wherever you are……………….

Monday 18th November – Britain apologises for letting Prince Andrew out. Again.

Dear Rest of the World,

I want to apologise, profusely, and on behalf of the citizens of the United Kingdom, for the repulsive, slimy, sack of human garbage that is more commonly known as Prince Andrew.

We, as a nation have let this cretin loose onto the global stage and, as if that’s not bad enough, and to add insult to the many injuries he has perpetrated, we actually funded the fiasco.

As a horrified viewer of his recent Newsnight interview, three questions kept running through my mind:

Firstly, does he realise we can actually hear him?

Secondly, where’s Liam Neeson when you need him?

And finally, how does the Deviant-Duke keep escaping from whichever padded cell he’s supposed to be restrained in?

Shouldn’t someone be watching him?

If the subject matter weren’t so horrific, his infantile attempt at ‘styling-it-out’ would almost be funny, but it’s not funny.

At all.

He is neck-deep in the procurement of trafficked young girls and, being the buffoon that he is, thinks if he says ‘wasn’t me’ enough times, his ‘boyish charm’ will win the day and we’ll all shut-up and leave him alone. During the interview, his response to almost every question was “I can’t remember” – now I’m no legal expert, but is that considered a legitimate legal defense these days? If so, the British criminal justice system is going to be swamped with appeals cases in the upcoming months.

Nope, Andrew Windsor don’t know nuffink ‘bout nuffink.

When asked if he ever witnessed hordes of young, scantily dressed, terrified looking girls milling around Epstein’s homes, his response was that, at the risk of sounding tooooo grand, he may have seen them but because he’s so super-important, he couldn’t give a crap and anyway, he thought they were the help.

After all, they were massaging his feet at the time so, yeah, fair play Andy, we get it, it’s tough at the top.

Knob.

When questioned about a photo taken of him standing next to, and with his arm around, the young lady who has had the bravery to speak out about the several occasions on which she was trafficked to him, so that he could avail himself of her facilities, Atrocious-Andy claims that yes, it’s his body in the picture but obviously his hand has been photo-shopped in.

Maybe it was the Russians?

I say bravery when I refer to this young lady because, lest we forget, Epstein was pretty well, absolutely definitely murdered to keep him quiet, so for a traumatised young woman to call this hideousness out to the world stage, she really is the very definition of bravery.

Honestly, at one point during his interview, it did cross my mind that maybe Andy could have had a hand in Epstein’s demise, but in the next breath, he scoffed and assured his interviewer that, contrary to allegations, he wasn’t at Tramps nightclub, boogying the night away, perspiring profusely as his dangly bits and chubby little hands rubbed up against his adolescent victim because, well, he doesn’t sweat.

Did he actually just say that?

Out loud?

No, it would take cunning and wiliness to pull off a murder plot and quite frankly I think he’d struggle if he were put in charge of keeping the red lego bricks away from the yellow ones.

Anyway.

Moving on, and whilst his access to Epstein’s sex trafficking ring has probably now dried up, there’s a silver lining for ‘The Perv formerly known as Prince’ as he’s handily established an organisation in, not just the UK, but across 100 countries where he still has plenty of access to seven to fourteen year olds.

Well, hand me the awesome sauce.

So, in short, I feel embarrassed and ashamed that we, as a country, have allowed this menace out, roaming freely amongst the citizens of the world but my assumption is that, from now on, he will be kept firmly inside the institution to which he, by his own admission, belongs.

Although, I’m not fussy.

Any institution will do.