You can hardly blame her for taking £100,000 of the Daily Cunt’s very dirty cash (we’d want it to go through a 60-degree wash with Ariel Gel before we’d touch it and even then we’d have some Mariah Carey Wet Wipes under the counter as we went through it), but it’s going to be a pretty skimpy story, don’t you think?
‘Well, he cum in, like,’ in a Rochdale accent, obviously, so imagine Lisa Stansfield. ‘He sat ‘imself down, bold as brass he were, and he says to me, “Gillian,” he says. “Gillian, what’s all this nonsense?” he says. He says, “I’m right dead sorry like that I said you was a bigot like. What I meant to say is, like… And then he gets up, bold as brass like, and goes out’t door, like, and puts his hand out like to shake mine heck as like, and I don’t give ‘im no hand to shake. Too right I don’t, like. Why should I, like? He’s called me a bigotry like. Can I now have my £100,000, like? There are black puddings I can’t wait to get me ‘ands on like and there’s a whippet in t’pet shop window I’ve had my eye on since last Wednesday fortnight…”
A rivetting exchange well worth buying The Cunt on Sunday for, we say. Oh, and Gillian, since it bought your lifelong Labour principles, be sure to count that money very carefully. Oh, and don’t spend any in shops run by ‘immigrants’.