Jeremy Corbyn Fails To Feed 5,000 Supporters With Five Loaves And Two Fishes

"Who brought salt and vinegar?"

“Who brought salt and vinegar?”

Under siege Labour Party Leader Jeremy Corbyn today was forced to admit that he isn’t actually divine following a failed attempt to feed five thousand supporters in Parliament Square using only five loaves and two fishes.

“I’m a bit disappointed in Jeremy actually,” said Labour voter Tristram Helvellyn. “He promised us a meal, and he sent a tray round with five loaves of Hovis, and two kipper fillets, assuring us that there was enough to go round. There wasn’t. From what I heard afterwards, one bloke whacked the two kippers between two slices of Hovis and scoffed it, and a few others got a slice of dry bread. It’s just not good enough. I think he should resign.”

“This is what you get with the Islington set,” a disgruntled Labour supporter from Sheffield complained. “Delia Smith’s not good enough for these bastard champagne socialists, oh no, they have to go all fucking Nazarene on us. No wonder Labour are in the shit. They’re so fucking out of touch with reality that they’ve allowed that absolute tit, Farage and his apostolic knuckle dragging racist morons to take the initiative. For fuck’s sake – we just want a Labour party to represent the ordinary people, a fair party who fight for what’s right and don’t serve the ruling elite by tolerating tax evasion, and don’t kiss the arses of the banks and the globalist elite. Five loaves and two fishes, I ask you – it’s a fucking joke. Why not play it the SNP way and actually try representing the people? Or is that too much to fucking ask, coming from the mugs who pay these pricks wages?”

In related news – England are still crap at football, although no-one can accuse the current squad of inconsistency – they bottled it. As usual.

Ken Mither

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Ed Miliband Vows To Protect British Sausages

Sausage Butties For All!

Sausage Butties For All!

Labour leader Ed Miliband promised yesterday to go all-out in defence of the traditional British banger in an off-the-record conversation with a London butcher last night.

Ernie Johnson, who runs a butchery business from a traditional butcher’s shop in west London stated that when he expressed concerns over the uncertain future of the British sausage in an increasingly multi-cultural society, Mr Miliband gave concrete assurances that he would fight tooth and nail in getting legislation passed in order to protect the great British banger.

“I was quite pleasantly surprised that he took our sausage welfare so seriously,” Mr Johnson related. “He seemed quite passionate about sausages, promising that our Cumberlands, Lincolnshires, Gloucester Old Spots, Pork and Apple, Suffolks and all that would have their heritage protected within the EU. A bit like what they do for champagne, Cornish pasties and Cheddar cheese. He even committed to protecting the blood sausages – such as black pudding – although on account of his ancestral background he probably wouldn’t ever actually eat any of them, unless it was for a photo opportunity.”

Which would appear to suggest that if you like a nibble on a juicy sausage from time to time then Red Ed’s your man and the Labour Party are your team.

“It’s funny,” said Mr Johnson. “And I suppose quite rewarding in a way that while all the other parties are squabbling about reducing the deficit, immigration concerns, the EU, terrorism and suchlike that Ed Miliband has the best interests of the great British public at heart by demonstrating his passion for the integrity and future of the great British sausage. It truly reveals that he is a man of the people. I was going to vote UKIP but Ed has turned my head around and now it’s Labour all the way for me. And all because of sausages. Amazing.”

We contacted Labour Central Office in order to get a response from Mr Miliband but he was out, so we asked the lady who answered the phone if she had any idea what Ed would be having for his tea today?

“Sausage butties of course!” she said, in a proper North-East accent. “Mr Miliband always has sausage butties for tea, with a bit fried onion, ketchup and a dash of English mustard.”

If that isn’t a vote-winner for Red Ed then we don’t know what is!

Martin Shuttlecock.

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Red Ed Miliband fails bacon sandwich course

He's loving it - we don't think

He’s loving it – we don’t think

Red Ed, as he’s known to his chums and muckers has apparently failed a course dedicated to the preparation and consumption of bacon sandwiches which he enrolled on at the Bacon Butty Institute of Birmingham last month. Apparently Red Ed felt humiliated following his much publicised attempts to successfully consume a bacon sandwich a few months ago and enrolled on the course in an attempt to revive his flagging street-cred.

“Ed regrets ever being involved in that bacon butty stunt,” Toby Wolfe – a tutor at the BBIB – told us. “He looked on it as a career defining moment, and not in a good way.”

There is no doubt that Mr Miliband appeared to struggle negotiating a bacon sandwich, grimacing throughout as he chomped and chomped as if his life depended on it. All of which sort of dented his credibility as leader of a party which purports to represent working people.

“He’s not used to bacon butties,” Wolfe sighed. “He’s a north London toff like all the rest of them, another career politician who doesn’t really have a clue about anything. Unless you include gurning – he’s dead good at that. Anyway, he doesn’t eat bacon butties for breakfast; he eats muesli or something similar. He’s very big on fibre apparently.”

The course which Mr Miliband took encompassed all aspects of bacon butty making, all the way through selection of type of bacon, bread, and cooking procedures, followed up by sauce selection. It doesn’t look so difficult on paper, so how did our aspiring Prime Minister flunk the test?

“Frankly, he was bloody hopeless,” Wolfe sighed. “He wasn’t too bad at grilling the bacon and buttering the bread, but his sauce choices were appalling. He insisted on Hollandaise, and that just doesn’t work at all. He might have stood a chance if he’d gone with the traditional choice of ketchup or brown sauce, and when he tried to eat it – it was a disaster. He had a face on him like a bulldog chewing a pissy nettle, and that’s the kind of face that doesn’t resonate with working people, who tend to devour their bacon butties with relish. You can’t possibly have a British PM who doesn’t appreciate a bacon butty – that would be like having an Italian President who hates pasta.”

The way we see it is that you can’t trust a man who vows to eliminate ‘zero hours’ contracts when his own party is as guilty as all the rest of abusing workers, and you certainly can’t trust a man who merely pretends to enjoy tucking into a bacon sandwich.

So there.

Paddy Berzinski

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Barking Mad Murphy On ‘Ed Miliband And Why I Won’t Be Voting Labour’

Do not listen to Barking Mad Murphy! The man is an utter twunt!

Do not listen to Barking Mad Murphy! The man is an utter twunt!

Ed Miliband eh? Labour Party. Miss Faversham still wearing the erection outfit years later covered in cobwebs. Ardman Animation. How does one eat a bacon butty without gagging? Red Ed my arse. Tractor to the shirking classless. Caviar and mash? Leave it out bruv. Bloomsbury Group – champagne soviets, like macaroons but slightly fair weather.

EU. Oh yes. Angela Snorkel, the Germaniacs, the French letters, Italian stallions, double Dutch, goat cheese. Britain. Coal mines, steelworks, shitbuilding, cowboys, swarfega. Rubber gloves and hairnets? Organised grime, balotelli boxes, red tapeworms. Strike! Strike! All out brotherhoods and sister acts. All for wonton soup, mulligatawny for all. Oh yes indeed! Factoid!

Tacks – thumb tacks, carpet tacks, constipation tacks. Apples, Giggle, Starburst. More or lessons? You decried. Social Clubbism? Wheeltappers and Shunters? Left tits? Too many shampoo socialites. All plush boys and girlies from hoarding schools. Rugger tugger? Jolly hockey masks? Out of touchpaper the mewling glasses.

As I said at Nuremburg – Was ist das? Never against. Brass roots, bold as monkeys, cribbage strewn urbane pastylands. Sick? Disabled? We’ll have that then. Not on your Nelly. New Labour old bullocks. More Noah.

Ever again. Bring back dangling and the larch I say. Vote Spike. I’m not.

Reporter: Barking Mad Murphy.

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