Thursday, 20 November 2008

Shack Radio: Konnie Huq and Bitterness

Dave: Where’ve you been chief? We were starting to worry about you. You didn’t get locked up for trying to kick the faces off dogs down the park again did you? You do know we’ve got a show to write?

Mark: Nah mate. I went to see my personality doctor; like everyone said I should.

Dave: Ah, good. Did he tell you to take some time off or something? Have a little break?

Mark: Something like that. He said that I should join some clubs or groups. Meet new people that share my interests. Distract myself from my spiteful, misanthropic, narcissistic and self-destructive behaviours.

Dave: Sounds like good advice. How’s it been working out for you then?

Mark: My spiteful, narcissistic and self-destructive behaviours are my interests. And I fucking hate people. So I fired the useless, thick, cock-socket and stayed up for three days eating bzp pills and boozing. I decided I’d better chuck it in for a bit when pus started to come out of one of my tear ducts. Have a look. It’s fucking grim. Pus covered eyeball!

So I had a small sleep, and now here I am, talking to you.

Dave: I’m worried about you sir. Put my mind at rest and tell me you did at least something constructive with some of your time.

Mark: I spent seven hours printing out pictures of Konnie Huq I found on the internet. HA HA! I'm a genius!

Dave: You fucking idiot. Did you do any work on the show? All I can see here is a load of pictures of Konnie Huq with ballbags crudely drawn on her chin. Oh fucking hell; you still don’t have a thing about her running in the Olympic relay?

The Olympics was months ago, are you going to drop this Konnie Huq, tool of Communist oppression thing? You know you’re in the minority on this one. Everyone wants to chuck one up Konnie Huq.

Mark: And that’s why I’m the last moral man on this dying planet. Having sex with Konnie Huq would be like making warm, tender, gentle, sweet and above all consensual love with that tank from Tiananmen Square. In an obscenely opulent hotel room made only of the tears of the families of people that China has executed with a bullet in the back of the head. On the forth of June. Whilst the Beastie Boys stare accusation from the corner of the obscenely opulent hotel room made only of the tears of the families of people that China have executed with a bullet to the back of the head.

The Beastie Boys are now protesting about the occupation of Tibet; but you are swathed in bed sheets woven like the finest of silks from the eternally lost potential of cruelly discarded female children; victims of uncaring misogyny and the cold one child only dictates of The Party. Konnie Huq wants you to pollute her rivers and exploit her child work force. She’s whispering sweet nothings to assure you that not many, if any, people died in that earthquake a while back. She wants you to lay your pipeline in her African oil fields. You can see her Great Walls from space and she fucking loves it

And while all this is going on you are saying:

“Nerr nerr. I don’t care about your moral objections to totalitarianism and state censorship or your Falun Gong beliefs. I’m shagging Konnie Huq. Look at me everyone! I’m shagging Konnie Huq! There must be a prize or money or some kind of recognition for shagging Konnie Huq! If I wasn’t you would be! You’d be right where I am right now! Shagging Konnie Huq! But you’re not because I am! I’m shagging Konnie Huq! Look at me!”

And you are sticking your tongue out at everyone that has had any objections to Communist China’s policies on anything ever whilst you just keep pumping harder and harder, always pumping away at the lovely yet forever morally tainted Miss Huq’s cervix. The corrupt, godless, inscrutable, red-pinko commie bitch!

Actually chief, I think I need to nip off to the toilets for a little while...

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