Agreed, and in two words...Michelle Obama! Arrogant c#%t!
Cheers
Mark 
El Presidente Wisconsin Whites 
Leeds United 
Chicago Fire


> From: [email protected]

> To say that our friend Mr Huhne has made one or two crass errors of judgment 
> over recent months is clearly something which cannot be understated; but it 
> should equally be noted that there was a witless inevitability to his asinine 
> progress that could have been anticipated by anyone who had been even dimly 
> aware of his existence over the last three decades.
> 
> You see – it is never sensible to trust a man, particularly one who seeks 
> public office, who has what is patently such a fucking awful taste in women. 
> 
> Witness the Inglorious Tony – hamstrung in each and every foray on to the 
> public stage not only by his simpering, sycophantic demeanor, but also by 
> having to drag that capaciously-mawed gorgon around with him; teetering and 
> gawping across the political landscape wearing make up applied by an artless 
> ten year old that did nothing to diffuse or disguise the angular dysfunction 
> of a face roughly hacked out of tofu with a blunt knife. Jesus. How he ever 
> sat easily at the top table of the world’s leaders with that thing slumped at 
> his side is beyond comprehension.
> 
> Huhne, clearly, has ventured that nothing can be quite so repulsive as what 
> has gone before but, as you might now reasonably expect of him, this has been 
> a grave miscalculation. The Pryce creature, to be fair, had a 50/50 chance of 
> being irredeemably grim due to her Greek heritage. She was either going to be 
> an aureate, slender goddess, all flawless brunette colouring with shimmering 
> dark highlights and skin with the flocculent lushness of a peach, or she was 
> going to look like a bloke. Unfortunately, genetics set her helplessly adrift 
> down this second path of  duplicitous manliness, then slapped her arse to 
> send her on the way with particularly malevolent mutations that left us with 
> something akin to Ronnie Barker wearing a shit ginger wig. With, one would 
> imagine, the texture of pigskin indecorously fingered and poked through dusty 
> hessian cloth.
> 
> Huhne, however, saw the light – unlikely though that might have been with 
> most of his horizons obscured by the hulking mass of animate Stygian gloom to 
> which he found himself fettered. He chose to seek succor elsewhere, and took 
> up fornicative cudgels with the piquantly named Carina Trimingham. The very 
> name evokes pert simplicity – archetypal Country Life cover material - and 
> you’d have thought that she would have been serviceably attractive as a 
> result, if a little unadventurous, bordering on the plain side of things but 
> ultimately scrubbing up nicely if enough of mummy and daddy’s cash was thrown 
> at it, err, her.
> 
> What you wouldn’t expect is some sort of cartoon character with a head the 
> shape of a jelly bean, or – if you’re either five years old or own a child of 
> a proximate age – like Igglepiggle from In The Night Garden. Trimingham has 
> the unfortunate knack of looking like someone different in every photo taken 
> of her; the sickener for her, and possible for Huhne too, is that none of her 
> doppelgangers are flattering in any way, shape, manner or form. Chris Barrie 
> - or Rimmer - from Red Dwarf; Ryan Miller – goaltender for the Buffalo Sabres 
> of the NHL (I shit you not); even her hair “style” is seemingly based on 
> either Jack Douglas from the Carry On films or someone deep in the lineage of 
> the Plantagenet kings at the turn of the first millennium. Stylishly and 
> expensively coiffeured it is not, unless it’s one of those fucking 
> extortionate Emma Bridgewater pudding basins that’s been used to achieve the 
> desired effect…
> 
> She also appears to be joyless, lacking any appreciable curves, dowdy and 
> have a penchant for crew-neck dresses that make her look like a nun throwing 
> caution to the wind in particularly conservative (small “c’”) style on the 
> one-day-out-of-the-convent-per-year trip to Waitrose or something equally 
> tedious.
> 
> So there you are. Huhne’s judgement is beyond either hope or repair. He’s 
> fucked up grandly not once, but twice, and I don’t suppose that his selection 
> criteria are going to get any more discerning in the short term, as a few 
> weeks having the attentions of Brian The Fister from e-wing as your best 
> option for a spot of carnal delight is hardly going to see you raising your 
> standards to thus far neglected heights when seeking comfort and redress on 
> restoration to your usual sphere of endeavours following your release…
> 
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