Buck's two cents worth 2
Buck's second butt
Well I've still got Phil on the ropes, or rather the clothesline, so I have another shot at this.
Boy that was some earthquake in Canterbury a few weeks ago. Puts a whole new meaning on two shakes of a (Canterbury) lamb’s tail, don’t it?
The political lammies were on the telly bleating their usual platitudes. Civil Offence Minister Hone Carter, (a wolf in sheep’s clothing if ever I saw one) threatened to practically parachute in to save the area in which his government sacked the democratically elected regional council. Of course this goat wasn’t remotely fooled, because I’d already caught up through my blackberry that the real reason was his daughter lived down there. It was such a big job even the PM had to make the ultimate sacrifice and go visit his Mum as well.
Well what about me, I want to know. I have a few caprine connections down in the wilds near skinhead city, but do you think the bastards would spring for a ticket for me to fly down at your expense? Civil servants? We’re the bloody servants. We pay them (quite well, by the way) and then also pay for all their visits home and their overseas holidays. To make matters worse half of the buggers are on the fiddle and I don’t mean that beautiful stringed instrument my old Uncle Capricorn used to play at our regular hootenannies, either. Then as if that wasn’t bad enough they don’t even do what we ask them to.
And they call that the democratic way. I reckon it’s all, a load of bollocks. We goats have a much better method. Brute force. I take from you what I want and I don’t apologise for it, which is the same as the government, really. The only difference is, I don’t lie to you about my motives.
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