My mistress with a monster is in love.
Near to her close and consecrated bower,
While we were out of doors at drinking hour,
A crew of Tories, rude mechanicals,
That piled the dead upon spurious calls,

1/5

Were met together to rehearse a play,
Intended for the Tories’ judgement day.
The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort,
Who PM as presented, in his sport
Forsook his last Queen and did Carrie take
When I did him at this advantage make,
An ass's nole I fixed on his head:

Anon his lusting must be answered,
And forth the mimic comes. When they him spy,
As tabloids that the creeping voters eye,
Or russet-pated lads, many in sort,
Rising and cawing at the Sun's report,
Betray themselves and madly suck the lie,

Read 5 tweets

🥛🇬🇧Michael Govern Ready🇬🇧🥛

@mikegove12

7 Apr

https://twitter.com/thebaldfather/status/1379866046685982723

Brexit has strengthened the Union.

https://twitter.com/thebaldfather/status/1379866046685982723

This is a celebratory fire.

To all the health and safety namby pambies out there, Andrew Bridgen is holding the crowds back with a supersoaker.

Read 8 tweets

🥛🇬🇧Michael Govern Ready🇬🇧🥛

@mikegove12

1 Apr

Iagove reflects:

"Thus do we ever make you fools our purse:
For Tories own gain'd knowledge should profane,
If we would time expend with plebians.
But for my sport and profit. I hate you all:

1/4

And it is thought abroad, our sick elites
Are but leeching sophists: I know that it be true;
For I know men of Eton in that kind,
Who never parted puberty. They hold you low;
The better shall their purpose work on you.

Boris’s a shag-worn man: let me see now:
To get his place and to plume up my will
In double knavery--How, how? Let's see --
After some time, to abuse politicos’ ears
That he is too familiar with their lives.
He hath a hundred thousand dead disposed;
Would they reflect it?

Read 4 tweets

🥛🇬🇧Michael Govern Ready🇬🇧🥛

@mikegove12

23 Feb

Daffodils.

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of rotting daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Browning and dying in the breeze.

1/4

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Shrivelled there dead in flyblown dance.

Flag wavers with them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling Brexit glee:
A Leaver could not but be gay,
In such festering company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

Read 4 tweets

🥛🇬🇧Michael Govern Ready🇬🇧🥛

@mikegove12

7 Jan

My interview with Donald Trump. A memory:

When I arrived in his office he pointed at a small pile of cocaine on his desk. I was horrified. A British guest should never impose like that.

"No thanks, I've brought my own." I said.

He grabbed my crotch.

"So, is that a B17 in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me Jeff?"

"Mike." I corrected. "And its an erection." You could feel the electricity in the room.

Not wanting to be too forward but fully aware the special relationship needed maintaining,

I asked if I could massage his shoulders. He agreed.

"Do you think your incessant debasement of standards, associations with racists and paedophiles, and utter unsuitability for presidency, will have a negative effect on American politics?"

He passed me the Kentucky Bourbon

Read 5 tweets

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