Most feeble excuse yet trotted out in defence of fiddling expenses is by the veteran trougher Lord Morris of Manchester.
None of his neighbours at his so-called "main residence" in Salford have ever seen the old cunt because he hides at the back of the house.
Right, like it's a two up two down terrace, so half the house is out of bounds to avoid being seen by the locals?
Lying Bastard.
The Penguin
5 comments:
Yet another trougher who would look good with rifle sights trained on his forehead - or a nice cosy hempen collar.
Set fire tae the auld cunt then pish on the ashes that remain.
And while I'm about it, set fire tae Stephen Bawjaws Fry and set fire tae his Tweeter account - who gives a fuck whit thon ugly poof thinks?
Who the fuck is Stephen Fry?
I hope you don't mind. I've usd this story myself on Munguin's Republic and credited it to you.
Flightless bird preens smugly...
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