Dom, Dom the Shyster Son...

A New Book from Fibber & Fibber

Boris’ Bedtime Companion - a must for your New Little Englander!!

Traditional Nursery Rhymes up-dated for a New Brave Brexit World

Featuring:

·         *The Liar and The Unicorn

·         *Saj and the Magic Money Tree

·         The Wheels on the Bus Have Fallen Off

·         Tweedledom and Tweedledommer

·         Bo-Bo’s Brexshit ; take me for a fool?

And, of course, Bojo’s own favourite ...Dom, Dom the Shyster Son

Traditional Version Dom, Dom the piper’s son Stole a pig, and away did run The pig was eat And Dom was beat And Dom went roaring down the street Dom he was a piper’s son He learnt to play when he was young And all the tune that he could play Was over the hills and far away Over the hills and a great way off The wind shall blow my top-knot off Dom with his pipe made such a noise That he pleased both the girls and the boys They all stopped to hear him play ‘Over the Hills and far away’ Dom with his pipe did play with such skill That those who heard him could never keep still As soon as he played they began for to dance Even the pigs on their hind legs would after him prance As Dolly was milking her cow one day Dom took his pipe and began to play And all the tune that he could play Was ‘over the hills and far away’

Boris’ New World Version Dom Dom, the shyster son Played puerile Boris just for fun Dom’s play was sheet The Bojjer got beat And Bojo’s driven howling from Downing Street Dom he was a plutocrat’s son A spoilt little Brat since he was young The first words he learned to say Were ’f**k off Tories, I’m here to stay’ Tow the line or just f**k off Soon replace you with another Toff” Speaking thro’ his ass made such a noise Dom pleased both ultra girls and brainless boys They all stopped to hear Dom’s ass say “F**k off Moderates, I’m here to stay” Dom told lies with so much skill That millions swallowed happily his Brexit pill As soon as he played them they began to dance Even ERG pigs on their hind legs started to prance As Bo-Bo was working the crowd one day Dom cranked up his ass and farted away ‘Democracy’s dead Now take it away...” Democracy’s dead Now take it away...” And all the tune that he could play Was democracy's dead....

The Saga of Cumalot

The Saga of Cumalot.

Part 1

And it came to pass that the old queen having lost, mislaid, and misplaced the support of the Cumalot council of her Peers abdicated in favour of a quiet life at the back of the back of the benches.

Many there were who fought for the crown. Among them Boris the ‘My Johnson is never sheathed’, Michael the Unruffled, Sajid the Hairless, Rory the Urbane and Jeremy the ‘I feel naked without a badge in my lapel’.

The contest went back and forth but, after many trials and by many immoral combat, the last man standing was Boris ‘My Johnson is never sheathed’. To say that this was the result of a lifetime’s ambition is an understatement – a concept with which, hitherto, Boris the ‘My Johnson is never sheathed’ has never been acquainted.

Thus it was that Boris the ‘My Johnson is never sheathed’, along with his faithful and loyal (sic) special friend Spermin the Destroyer, became the undisputed power of, well, at least half the population of Cumalot.

Bathing in the glow of his success Boris the ‘My Johnson is never sheathed’ first decision was to rush pell mell to share his good fortune with his latest squeeze, Carrie the Undecided. Such was Carrie’s appreciation of this great good fortune for everybody that her first words to her beloved were,

 “Now can we have a puppy”.

 How sweet!

Boris the ‘My Johnson is never sheathed’ smiled indulgently and thought,

 “She’s got no idea”, but said,

 “Of course my dear. Now I really must go, I have a council to select so that Spermin and I can move to gain the biggest prize of all”.

 ‘”You don’t mean…” said Carrie the Undecided.

 “Yes, I do, the Holy Pail of Shit known as Brexit”

Carrie gasps and he was gone.

Upon his return to Court, Spermin siddled up to him Gollum like and sneeringly said,

 “Welcome back Master – while you were away I’ve thought of some common fodder that might be useful in your quest for the Holy Pail of Shit known as Brexit”.

King Boris the ‘My Johnson is never sheathed’ gazed lovingly at the strange little fellow and said “What would I do without you Spermin, you are my right hand pleasing myself – you give me such a high!”.

“ Oh Master”, Spermin’ replied teasingly.

“Well, you may not have gone to the Bullingdon School of Anarchy but you’re a fine fellow for all that. Now, what have you got for me”.

“Well Master, all MP’s apart from your most righteous self are less that fucking useless…”

 King Boris the ‘My Johnson is never sheathed’ blushes with pleasure – not a pretty sight

“ …but I have some who will prostrate themselves before you and with only your blessing to sustain their fractured egos will follow you to the ends of the world or the cliff edge whichever comes soonest”

To be continued…

Opera buffs ahoy!

A Production by the Old Etonian Sad Little Opera Company entitled:

*Surely Old Entitled Etonian Sad Little Opera Company(?) ed.

Kwasi fan Tutti (Posh Boys are all like That)

By Mo Sarrt

The story so far: Kwasi Kwartenigo and Borissimo are taking time out from the Brexit non-negotiations to have a little sport. Before too long la conversazione turns to ‘Le donne’

Act 1: The Locker room at the Posh Boys of Westminster Tennis Club

Borissimo: Phwoar! I haven’t had a workout like that in hours (winks laddishly at Kwartenigo)

Kwartenigo: Even so you’re looking a bit ‘giu in boccia’, if I might say so, Generalissimo.

Borissimo:  (marches up and down with his tennis racquet held like a swagger stick) To tell you the truth...

Kwartengo: (aside) Well, that will be a first.

Borissimo:..I’m completely stafo’d with the whole Brexit thing. As if life weren’t difficult enough in ‘Consiglio dei Ministri having to look out for ‘Coltello Gove nella parte posterior ‘  ,  the 2 Glistening Otters – La Ambra and Nicoletta- Morganna turn out to be two complete Harridans

Kwartenigo: La mia simpatia! La mia simpatia! Vecchio Mio! I had a dalliance with La Ambra. She was a complete ‘incubo’ .

Borissimo:  So now you’ve decided to hitch your wagon to ‘La Fragrante Harrieta’

Borissimo bursts into song

Say goodbye to your pastime and play lad

Say goodbye to your sowing wild oats lad

        Here’s an end to Ambra’s romps in the hay lad

   Here’s an end to your romps with the girls...

Kwartenigo looks crestfallen

Kwartenigo: I’d hoped I could continue like you, Il Duce.

Borissimo:  Cosa intendi, Kwazers?

Kwartenigo: Well you managed to be ‘pantalone non sicari’ through two marriages. (Kwartengo nudges Borissimo conspiratorially) Bambini Batardi qui e li?’

Borissimo: threateningly Attento, Fagiolo Vecchio, Borissimo never discusses questione di famiglia.

Kwartengo: (wishing to lighten the mood) Well, Il Douche-bag, I have a wheeze to distract us both from the assurdita di brexit, which I know you will like...

Borissimo perks up

Kwartenigo (continuing) I propose for your amusement, Capo Supremo, Missione Impossibile

My task is to persuade Nicoletta-clearly-a-mad-suggestion-Morganna to vote in favour of prorogation. Yours is to do the same with Ambra ‘ridiculous- suggestion-absolutely- outrageous-Rudda .The first to succeed wins a Brexit Commemorative medallion to be presented by Jacob Squeezy-Mopp.

Borissimo: Excellent, Primo Capitano and maybe we can have a tenner on the side?

Borissimo and Kwartenigo turn to each other in complete devotion and sing the aria
 

La Donna e mobile (Women are Fickle)

La Donna e mobile

Qual piuma al vento etc. Etc.

The Great Unwashed Vernacular Choir joins in the chorus

These men are despicable

These men are dangerous

One is a Choc-ice

The Other is a racist

One lies; both obfuscate

Kick ‘em out before it’s too late

Kick these windbags out

Before it’s too late...etc. etc.

·         La Donna e mobile – Rigoletto ? but what the heck –ed.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Glossary

la conversazione – the conversation                  Le donne – women

‘giu in boccia’ -down in the mouth                     stafo’d – bored

Consiglio dei Ministri – Cabinet                                ‘Coltello Gove nella parte posterior ‘-Gove’s knife in the back

La mia simpatia! La mia simpatia! Vecchio Mio! – You have my sympathy my old mate

Incubo – nightmare                                                     Cosa intendi? – what do you mean?

‘pantalone non sicari’ - an unsafe pair of trousers

 Bambini Batardi qui e li?’ - a few bastard children here and there

Attento, Fagiolo Vecchio  - Careful old bean           assurdita di Brexit – The absurdity of Brexit

Kwasi Fan Tutti returns next week for

Act2:   Following a champagne party at Jacob Squeezy-Mopps Borissimo persuades Ambra to share a taxi home