A short list of rejects

This entry was posted on
Friday, November 7th, 2008
at
11:04 am and is filed
under Guy Fawkes Night.

For those who came in late:
2005: Tony Blair
2007: Rebekah Wade

OK, the time has finally come for me to (almost) reveal what the plan is for Guy Fawkes Night this year, starting with a list of who is not going to be burned in effigy this year:

No, it’s not serial liar and fantasist Nadine Dorries or Sarah Palin or (as rumoured in seedier corners of the internets) both of them in a three-way forked-tongue-a-thon with Julie Moult. I have a reputation for hitting girls with sticks as it is.

Speaking of serial liars who deserve to be hit with sticks, no, it’s not Iain Dale, either. I did consider burning Ashcroft and popping Iain in the pocket until I realised that Iain would have to be in more intimate and out-of-sight location for the voodoo to work. Then I realised I’d have to stuff a certain nuisance-calling twat up the arse on an effigy that was already up the arse of another effigy, and the whole thing just got too damn Russian for me, so I scrapped the idea.

Speaking of Russian intrigue; no, it’s not Uzbek-born Russian billionaire Alisher Usmanov, much as I’d like to highlight the antics of that local landowner to a mob of torch-wielding villagers, I’d just as soon not see J Paul Getty’s old place going up in flames.

Speaking of morbidly obese outright bastards with a love for vodka, no it’s not Paul Staines (aka ‘Guido Fawkes’) either, because I’d have to pickle the bloody thing in alcohol to get the voodoo right on that one. Not a good idea anywhere near flaming torches and other naked flames, and not something I can afford, even with some of the ‘cheap booze’ specials advertised on Paul’s* low-rent banner advertising network.

(*Note – “Paul Staines is neither a shareholder, director or employee of MessageSpace and never has been.”)

And finally, no, it’s not a banker or a hedge-funder, because if I were to take a guy, make it suitably fat, stick in it a ‘city boy’ shirt, and put a screwed-up ball of grubby fivers where its heart should be, I’d be stuck with Paul Staines all over again.

So who (or what) is going on the bonfire this Saturday night?

Can you guess?

(No hints from the small group of people who already know, please.)








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