A PRETTY pass we’ve come to when dangling your penis and scrotal sac in an underling’s face is considered ‘abnormal’. This woke tyranny must be ended once and for all.
It seems our bulldog race, which saw off Nazi Germany and the EU, is too sensitive for a spot of perfectly normal genital horseplay between an MP and a member of their staff. And also, humorously calling them thick while hitting them in the head is a ‘microaggression’.
In saner times MPs themselves would only investigate serious accusations against their peers, such as murdering one’s pregnant housekeeper, then take circumstances and wealth into account and let them off.
Today I find myself pilloried for the chastisement of a wretch who would not give me so much as a massage. The rot began with universal suffrage, and now you can’t sleep with a younger male staff member in a twin room on a trip to Madrid without him making a fuss.
Why am I being hounded? Because I proposed, with great compassion, making the August bank holiday Margaret Thatcher Day. And the liberal elite, led by Britain’s archenemy Michel Barnier, determined to destroy me.
They planted fake stories about me in the malleable mind of an employee, one who I treated no worse than an indentured slave, and suddenly in 2015 he claims he has been ‘abused’ even though all this was normal then.
We truly have seen our Brexit taken from us when we’re terrified of seeing the phallus of a hardworking, patriotic MP who only slightly resembles Dracula. Did the men who stormed Gold and Sword beaches on D-Day engage in penile tomfoolery after giving Jerry a hiding? I like to think so.
If I am forced to stand again in a by-election I am confident my constituents will not be swayed by these trivial accusations. Brexiters are simple, honest folk of few syllables, and will choose my flaccid, veiny cock over wokeness any day.
