Busy, busy, busy… that’s Gordon for you. Things to do, people to annoy, nations to bankrupt…
Our erstwhile Prime Minister (how long ago it suddenly seems!) is still restless with vibrant energy. This is, of course, when he is at his most dangerous. There is so much more damage he could do, but his opportunities as a back-bencher are hard to come by.
What he would really like, the Express tells us, is to be head of the International Monetary Fund. This position will be up for grabs in 2012, when Gord-o might be able to apply the skills and policies which made his recent reign such a sucess.
And maybe he could use the talents of his comedy side-kick, Liam “There’s no money left” Byrne.
But what is this? According to the Express, and the Express never lies, Mr Brown believes he has “one big job left in him.” Surely the one-eyed son of the Manse must know that “job” — more usually “jobbie” — is Glasgow slang for poo. The real brown stuff.
Or is the Express trying to tell us, in their always subtle way — that Gord-o is full of shit?
We don’t know. But we think we should be told.
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Since he failed so miserably at his last two jobs, PM & Chancellor perhaps he’d do better to lower his sights?
I’m sure there must be an opening for a ‘Dustcart Operative – broom, bin, shovel, dustcart & hi-vis waistcoat supplied free on payment of deposit (refundable on retirement/resignation/sacking)’ somewhere up round his neck of the woods? Failing that – a Lollipop Man? – no, on second thoughts – no to that one!
I have remarked an virtual absence of the Jockanese dialect in the news programmes. Perhaps McSnotty is regrouping his tribe in Scotchland.
GB’s a Fifer – he doesn’t speak Weegie. A jobbie’s a tollie over there, ken.
James Gordon Brown was born in Glasgow when his father Dr John Ebenezer Brown was Minister of Govan Parish Church.
So is a Weegie.
So is Bugger (the Panda) and the Rev Brown christened me.
Thank you, Bugger – I stand corrected.
Thank-you Bugger, my understanding was always that he was a Weegie……
In the tiny Norfolk hamlet where I was raised, we used to have a closet at the end of the garden which was emptied by the ‘night men’. Now there’s a good job (lol) for Snotty.
Heaven preserve us all.
Gordon Brown’s history of nocturnal working would make him ideal for this occupation. Beware if someone ever uses honey bucket as a term of endearment.