Sunday, May 28, 2006

Shit jobs

Number 1 in an occasional series:


John Prescott’s Diary Secretary.

6 comments:

R. Sherman said...

You know, I really need to keep up on British sleaze. I thought blue GAP dresses were the be-all and end-all.

Cheers.

Ivan the Terrible said...

Not by a mile, Randall. The British Labour Party's long association with the Kennedies is finally bearing fruit.

Anonymous said...

Upon closer inspection, those choice loaves look remarkably like tiki heads.

Ivan the Terrible said...

So much for the purity and freshness of naive primitive art, eh? They're obviously just palming gullible dealers off with elephant eggs, the thieving abos...

Fortunately for the dealers, there's always someone further down the food chain. Usually a Saatchi, as it happens.

johnnyboy said...

In the course of my formative years, I once happened to have my arm engulfed to the armpit up a horse's rectum. Without a glove or any other protection. It was all in all a warm, intimate, and ultimately fairly pleasurable experience. I'll bet the elephant fecaltress is more enamored of her work than you'd think.
However I see no redeeming value in being a viscous MP's supine secretary.

Ivan the Terrible said...

At least the horse couldn't have you fired, JB - to that extent at least it must have been a labour of love, and so a beautiful thing...