The decrepit editor, who has already increased the circulation of the Gazette to 3 a month in the twelve years he's been in charge said; Mr Dimwhit, has updated his ode, while he was in hospital recovering from a split finger nail on his left foot. His was the only entry into the competition, but we are hoping for better input in the August edition. We will again be offering a choice of prizes, this month the winner settled for the plastic tea strainer. I hope you like his cutting way of writing. As soon as he is out of the asylum we will try to get an interview for you.
I know it is very easy, these nepotists to decry,
I can't think of one who comes over as a good guy,
Bet they do not live on a McDonald's chicken thigh,
They just tell untruths, they cannot legally lie,
To keep or get into power, with anyone they'll ally,
They shop at Harrods, they never have to attend the 'Bring & Buy',
They seem to set the rules, that they do not apply,
When their expense claims are fiddled, and go awry,
The laws of ethics and morality they manage to defy,
Sod the proletariat is their cruel battle-cry,
Being honest and trustworthy, also passed them by,
Their own salaries, they grade overly high,
Nepotists they are, to last gay, gal and guy,
To cover their shady dealings, they will try,
Surely the expenses fiddling they cannot deny?
Only at elections, do they consider the pathetic small fry,
The idiots who vote them, just like you and I,
Party Political broadcasts, are weirder than Sci-Fi,
But more unbelievable, lying, and wry,
Their greedy uncaring attitude makes one want to cry,
Where do the worst ones come from, Eton is the reply,
Rich mummies & daddies, taught them to be superior not shy,
I wish I could say, the end of these swines is nigh,
You can't get into Government without the old school tie,
That rules me out, have a good day - and goodbye!
The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.
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