Life as a Labour MP

Eraser of Love, Going Postal

Poor Keith Vaz, It sickens me to the core of my very being to see our elected Proud custodians of democracy having to sing for their Fresh chicken brass supper in this manner.

Today , The Iron Duke of North Chingford, Me, will be calling for our Destitute MP’S to augment their megre incomes by implementing the old Beer bottle return collection deposIt system , so loved by the leg of mutton alpha male of the 1970’s. However, in this case Using the empties of the amyl nitrate Bottles.

Thus,

The MP , suddenly finding himself bereft of fiscal funds at 9.30 am after a hard night, proud of lust and fucking to spasam the arseholes of various sweet meats on the top tray of the meat rack , simply has no means of buying his passage to the house of commons to collect his £300 daily allowance for 30 mins spent wanking with goosefat to pictures of Tom Daley in Barry sheens Cream bikers leathers, in trap 3 of the House of commons thunderbox.

It is vital for our commerce that the MP gets to his workstation and networks on his grindr app For fatbacked horsemeat covered in vellus hairs , and timidly complains to his dealer as to the quality of his Marching powder merchandise before placing an order for more as he has an important meeting with prospective members of the lord baden powell association in a stockwell crack den that very evening , after recording desert island discs.

Eraser of Love, Going Postal

Under my proposal and To remedy this Embarrassing situation for all concerned , not least the very sanctuary of english democracy, our MP simply Dispatch an errand boy to Return his empty bottles of Nitrate jungle juice to the strip curtained sex shop with his empty bottles of ‘Rave’, ‘liquid gold’ , ‘Reds’ and ‘Rush’ to collect his deposit.

Thus our hardworking peer continues his important work, The fragile eco system is supported, The boys on the meat rack continue to keep a small portion of their fees to reinvest in skag to block out their painful childhood memories , their pimps are happy as fucking larry and only gently chide their manwhores with bass guitar stings rather than a world war two knuckle duster, and the sex shop owners are happy as their mode of business has had a sheen of respectability added to it by our degenerate captains of industry, commerce and democracy ..the cycle of life continues.

Eraser of Love ©