Gordon Brown

Ah Gordon, what a sheer pleasure you were to draw.

Those bramblepatch eyebrows, the vast Yorkshire pudding ears, the sweat-curled, dandruff-dusted collars and of course a wuthering wilderness of jowls.

With his glass eye, wooden movements, clunking fist and a succession of chins which appeared to have been hewn from grey Scottish granite, it is hardly surprising that Bionic Brownie was thought to lack the human touch that his predecessor had in such oily, ingratiating abundance.

El Gordo

I was always fascinated by Gordo’s array of uneasy mannerisms. The way he dabbed his fingers gingerly at the top and bottom of each page when addressing a crowd. The way he involuntarily plunged his jaw down into the ashen folds of his meaty neck after each sentence like a fat woman lowering herself into a bubble bath. But most of all I was captivated by his hopeless inability to mask the trembling rage he felt that during the 10 years in which he had skulked through the back-passages of power, politics had become a game which he was desperately ill-equipped to play.

Thanks to Tony, premiership was now the province of the airbrushed ad-man bleeding synthetic pathos; the crisp-suited, air-guitar-playing, soundbite-spraying bandwagon-hopper. And Gordo suddenly found his ample frame being prodded through rather tight-fitting hoops.

Not only that but by the time Mr Blair finally vacated office to hump the after-dinner circuit, the wheezing mare of public opinion which had been flogged so mercilessly over the preceding decade took one look at Gordo’s prodigious carriage and keeled over on the spot.

He must have envisioned his stewardship so differently. In his runner-up bed in Number 11 he’d have bestridden his dreams as an indomitable commander; iron jaw gritted in grim determination as he steered Britain’s creaking frigate through the foaming waters of an economic tempest.

Instead he became that squinting berk on the now infamous YouTube clip. Babbling like a mental patient and sporting a series of increasingly horrifying rictus-like grins which appeared and then vanished again with such alarming speed that one might almost suppose they’d had been occasioned by a the rectal introduction of a cattle prod from one of his less scrupulous aides. Gordo appeared to be in genuine pain. Mind you, suddenly realising that you’ve been born in the wrong century will probably do that to a man.

Still, in the pantheon of epic jowlists Gordo was a collossus and we salute him.

To see Gordo served up with real panache, check out the unholy genius of Morten Morland.

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14 thoughts on “Gordon Brown

  1. What a pathetic piece of shit! I’ve met Gordon many times and the difference between me and the idiot who thought he’d get a cheap laugh by writing this pile of poo is I happen to know much more about the man than he does and this little boy has probably never met him but reads from the Tory media! Gordon is one of the kindest, most honest men you could ever meet and still works hard to help people.The bunch of arseholes in government now are the ones you should focus your derision on. I’ll pass on your regards to my MP Gordon . I’ll tell him there was a 10 year old thinking he was funny but all he really was, was a tosser!

  2. >> the difference between me and the idiot who thought he’d get a cheap laugh by writing this pile of poo is I happen to know much more about the man than he does and this little boy has probably never met him but reads from the Tory media! <<

    That… and a basic understanding of how to punctuate a sentence.

  3. Iv’e met him many a time also. And I agree, he is very honest. He called me a jobby jouster when I presented before him in a pink shirt and tie at the annual Young Socialist Barn Dance in Devises. He still had his good eye on me throughout the ensuing two step shuffle.

      1. Once again I have to disagree with this Susan individual, who seems to think her name is so important she should write it twice.

  4. There are few things on this good planet that I like more than Gordon, unfortunately one of these is punctuation and correct use thereof.

    But then, I’m only in stage one of my bigoted woman training scheme, so what would I know?

    1. Actually I quite like it. Also is that a question? Are you asking Mr Jowls if he wants to bore for Britain – like some kind of moleman olympics. “Dig for Britain!” Bellend.

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