Written By:
Tillerman - Date published:
10:48 am, September 5th, 2007 - 4 comments
Categories: humour -
Tags: humour
Hi. Mike Moore here. Today I’m in Uzbekistan adding value to their goat herd. I woke early and checked the nasty emails from home. I went back to sleep, woke up, cried, went back to sleep, woke again, cried, had a wank and a fag, and went back to sleep. Then I had an idea. I wrote a book. This afternoon I’m going to Russia to cure Aids. What about Germany? Ubergermany. It was two Germanys. Singapore. Same size as Lake Taupo. Sometimes it’s wrong to be right too soon. Bob Geldof. Jobs. Health. Albatross. Must go.
Seriously, I can’t stop laughing. I think I just broke a rib.
Stop! Stop! Myself you are killing with this funniness.
Too coherent to be the real thing.
I’m still puzzling over ‘The low fat yoghurt really hit the fan’ – is it an attempt at humour? Why yoghurt? Why low fat? or is his inability to flow logically from one idea to another an early sign of dementia?
Of course, he’s been spluttering out his confused ramblings for ages and everyone ignored him (I had a foreign boss who needed to be up with NZ news, first time she read a Moore piece she said ‘this guy was Prime Minister? he can’t put a paragraph together’ and never bothered to read him again). Just because he happens to have turned his gaze on the Labour leadership doesn’t mean he suddenly has anything useful to say.
Talking to himself the jerk calls himself Michael Joseph Savage Moore. Thinks he’s a Labour icon ha ha ha !