WRDMammal Love

Our Prime Minister, David Cameron, has had a blow job off of a dead pig. A dead fucking pig. A dead one. LOLoutLOUD. Now, the Weekly Review of Dance Music doesn't normally give a fuck about politics, but in this instance I'd be a bit mental not to jump on the commentary bandwagon.

We've all done some dirty things in our lives, ladies and gentlemen, but there's not many lads I know who can say they've rattled the mouth of a dead pig. The filthiest thing I've ever been a party to was the time I went around to a sixteen year old girl's house during the summer holidays - her parents were out - and she tossed her dog off in front of me with her thumb and forefinger...twice. It was fucking brilliant. Sick, but very funny. After she'd sent the happy dog into the back garden to relax, we watched Space Jam and got off with each other.

Now, I know the RSPCA and Childline/the police might be on my back after reading that anecdote, but the dog is probably dead now and I was definitely also sixteen at the time of this incident. Definitely.

I'm interested to see how David Cameron responds to all of this. His office said today that they're not going to dignify the allegations with a response. That makes it worse for everyone because it'll only prolong the story (worse for him), and the internet jokes have already become shitter and the puns more strained (worse for us). No joke or pun is funnier than saying the following words out loud; David Cameron has had a blow job off of a dead pig. Say it again: David Cameron has had a blow job off of a dead pig. Lovely stuff. The dirty cunt has got this over him for the next five years now and he thought he'd won the lottery when Jeremy Corbyn fucked over all the "electable" candidates in the Labour leadership battle and then didn't sing the national anthem and then we found out he had sex with a human woman before he was famous! ROFLOFL.
MASSIVE QUESTION 1: Was that pig a male or a female pig? I'm not one to cast aspersions, but what are the nation's thoughts on whether or not our Prime Minister had straight oral sex with a dead female pig or gay oral sex with a dead male pig? I know we've moved on from the social "norms" and expectations of the old-school 1960s and 70s, but I'd bet there is still a strong percentage of (probably old, working class and repressed) voters out there who'll now be thinking long and hard about whether to vote for Dave in the next election if it turns out he'd had gay oral sex with a dead male pig. Male or female, straight or gay. It doesn't bother me. If you face fuck a dead pig to get into a rubbish drinking club in Oxford, you're a bit fucking weird. Jez We Can can just rock up every Wednesday and put his feet up now. Cameron's got fuck all on him anymore.

David Cameron: "You didn't sing the God Save The Queen."
Jez We Can: "You face fucked a dead pig."

David Cameron: "You snubbed the Rugby World Cup opening ceremony."
Jeremy Corbyn: "You rattled a dead pig's mouth"

David Cameron: "You look disheveled and unlike a proper politician."
Our Jez: "You've had a blow job off of a dead pig."

David Cameron: "You can't be trusted with the economy."
Red Jez: "Did you or did you not have sexual intercourse with the mouth of a dead pig?"

David Cameron: "You are a threat to the nation's security."
The J-Man: "You got sucked off by a dead pig in front of a load of bullies."
MASSIVE QUESTION 2: Is it THAT big a deal if any of this story is true? Really? Away from all the giggling. You do all sorts of mental things when you're a teenager/early-mid-late twenties. David Cameron's only crime is being allegedly photographed being deep-throated by a dead pig as part of a student peer-pressure exercise. I bet that at the time, if you were there, it was fucking hilarious, and all of the drongos on Facebook and Twitter who are either faux-outraged by it or laughing themselves inside out at how embarrassed he must be by it all are just jealous that THEY weren't getting THAT involved when THEY were young, free and single. If I could turn back time, I would have helped toss that dog off instead of standing behind the sofa, sniggering. It is with deep regret that I, a definitely sixteen year old Tonka, did bottle it and watch from the sidelines as Lozza got right involved in being young and stupid.


I'll be back next week with loads more excellent social commentary, straight-talking no-nonsense and a wonky-eyed trumpeting of my own self-importance when it comes to the world of dance.

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