Newly elected MP John has radical plans
This is set in London England where people speak like the Queen but the central character John is from Lancashire where they speak like the folk on Coronation Street on Telly and swear a lot. Basically if you don't like the F word don't F-ing read it and give crap feed back, all right.

Johnno Althwaite MP

"Order, Order," The speaker of the House of Commons intoned in the Palace of Westminster the British Parliament, the Legislature beside the River Thames neat Westminster Cathedral, by that massive tower holding the great bell know as Big Ben and that iconic clock, that bastion of democracy of six hundred and twenty nine good men and true, and about six hundred and twenty odd plus me, Johnno Allthwaite Independent MP for Weatherfield North listened as he spoke the words in the time honoured way as he gave the name of the next member of Parliament he would allow to speak. "The Prime Minister."

I felt really excited as the Prime Minister rose slowly from his seat and the whole chamber went quiet, more than six hundred elected members crammed into the chamber with barely room for half that number in comfort, it's timeless grandeur only slightly sullied by the presence of TV cameras and dangling microphones, (All right I know I didn't write this bit me self I got Jennie to do it cause she has a bit of a way with words.)

See since I won the Weatherfield North by election by a landslide after the poor old sod had to resign when he got caught fiddling his expenses, what a prat, getting caught I mean, and I had to stand as Independent of I wanted the eighty gand a year and a chance of ridding the country of pedos after the Fat Bastard said I couldn't stand for his lot.

"Thank you Mr Speaker, I shall be brief," the Prime Minister lied in his plummy upper class accent, "Among all the measures proposed by my government this has proved perhaps the most controversial, apart perhaps for the compulsory tattooing of all benefits claimants, which as we have seen has already reduced considerably the dependence upon our Social Services, but Mr Speaker it is the years of Labour's mismanagement of the Law and Prison service, pandering to the criminal at the expense of the victim that has left us with even more awkward decisions to make, and Mr Speaker as you well know we have been opposed every step of the way by that very party that got us into this mess."

He paused for the jeering and cat calls to subside, "But the events of the past week have reminded us that sometimes we, the elected government, need reminding that sometimes we can have different concerns to those which concern the ordinary electors and perhaps the Weatherfield North By election was that wake up call because Mr Speaker none of our political rhetoric about cuts and stimulus struck a chord with the ordinary electors and a lone individual Independent member was elected." he paused.

"Elected Mr Speaker on a single platform, Pedophiles, a commitment Mr Speaker to hang every single pedophile in the country from a Lamp post by his bollocks, if I remember correctly, and in that quest Mr Speaker we must support him, Mr Speaker, although sadly not the exact form of punishment Mr Allthwaite proposes but a final solution to the problem none the less and Mr Speaker," he paused, "Today after consultation I have the honour today sir to present that very policy!"

"Opportunist!" a Liberal Democrat jeered.

"The electorate has spoken, we ignore them at our peril," the Prime Minister explained, "We campaigned on fiscal restraint, the honourable members opposite campaigned for stimulus and borrowing, yet more members campaigned for Gay Marriage but Mr Speaker the electorate spoke to us, and they demand not jobs, or gay rights but the right to live in a pedophile free society, Mr Speaker, and we on this side of the house listen to the people Mr Speaker, and when the electorate demand that pedophiles be hung from lamp posts by their genitalia we listen Mr Speaker," he continued, "And if we could we would but sadly EU rules on health and safety will not permit this!"

"Shame!" I shouted.

"Boooo," someone shouted.

"But Mr Speaker," the Prime Minister continued, "Following consultation with the office of the Attorney General we propose that rather than hanging pedophiles from potentially fragile lamp posts where they may present a hazard to pedestrians, we should instead present a comprehensive raft of measures to address all the electors concerns."

"Fudge!" someone called and the cat calls and jeering became more strident, until the Speaker ordered, "Order Order," and when it subsided he said again "The Prime Minister,"

"Thank you Mr Speaker," The Prime minister intoned "The inequality that allows pedophies a brief period of atonement in custody for the lasting psychological harm their victims suffer often for their whole life is an abomination that cannot be allowed to continue so Mr Speaker, I propose that, starting from the first of April 2015 all pedophiles are branded with the letters P E D and O across their forehead with a red hot branding iron as a warning to others."

"Shame!" the cat calls continued and someone threw an over ripe tomato which narrowly avoided the Prime Minister's ear and splashed against the bench behind him. .

" Order, Order, Remove the Member for Thamesdown East if you please Sergeant at Arms," the Speaker intoned, "Prime Minister."

"Yes, thank you, Mr Speaker," The Prime Minister continued, "If I may, from the first of April I propose that all new newly convicted pedophiles shall either be castrated or if they refuse on religious grouds thye should have their bollocks smashed with a sledge hammer." There was uproar but he continued.

"Yes heir bollocks cut off or smashed to pulp, and branded Mr Speaker, no more hiding in prison, this is community punishment," the Prime Minster insisted, "Having their bollocks destroyed combined with the indignity of an ass hook is a punishment well fitted to the crime." Suddenly the whole chamber went quiet.

"Yes we have consulted widely and branding and castration are widely accepted as the way forward," the Prime Minister explained, "Yes Mr Speaker, if this measure is aproved after the first of April Pedophiles will no longer be able to hide."

"They will get beaten up!" the member for Down Hatherton and Gomerstone protested.

"Yes," The Prime Minister continued, "And we will introduce a specific offence of assaulting a convicted pedophile, and on conviction a fine of ten pounds will be payable."

"Outrageous!" someone protested.

"Ten pounds Mr Speaker," the Prime Minister continued, "and for repeat offenders a bulk discount will be available."

"Mr Speaker," The Prime Minister continued, this has the potential to reduce the prison budget by millions if not billions of pounds per annum by removing a need for segregation, and I am hopeful that all convicted pedophies can be removed from segregation and branded and released into the local communities by the end of the year."

"You could be forcing people into hiding!" someone shouted.

"Not people but Pedophiless," the Prime Minister continued, "But Mr Speaker let us remember only filthy perverts of the worst kind will be affected, and do we care about them, I say we do not!"

A ripple of laughter sounded from the government benches, "But Mr Speaker, the people have spoken and we must listen," the Prime Minister insisted as he finished his speech an mopped his brow and sat down.

"Leader of the Opposition," The Speaker called. She stood, anger etched into her ebony features.

"When my father came here from Jamaica, he came for a decent wage, a council house and a chance for his children to better themselves in a land regarded as the cradle of civilisation, what we propose today is a return to a situation akin to the witch hunts of the middle ages," she protested, "Why must we follow the Allthwaite lead, are we spineless? are we lap-dogs?" she asked, "And why do we go so far beyond the Americans proposals, almost to the 'point of offend and die as indeed proposed by Mr Allthwaite?"

She stared around the chamber, "And what about pedophiles human rights?" she asked and there was a ripple of agreement from the opposition benches, "Furthermore," she continued.

I'd had enough, I stood up, "They don't have any fucking human rights!" I said, "Hang them by their bollocks, rip their balls off!" I shouted.

"Mr Allthwaite please!" the Speaker pleaded, "Please sit down Mr Allthwaite, Prime Minister."

"Thank you Mr Speaker, yes Mr Allthwaite," The Prime Minister agreed, "We must say to pedophiles 'If take your cock out to abuse a minor you leave your human rights behind' and we further propose that convicted pedophiles are re classified not as humans but as non domestic animals."

There was an audible gasp, "Indeed," he continued, "While we cannot hang pedophiles from lamp posts by their bollocks under EU law as many of would wish to we can by these measures eradicate the convicted peophile as a threat to our young people.

"I must protest," the leader of the opposition protested, "Pedophiles cannot be compelled to submit to castration and branding with a red hot branding iron!"

"They will be outcasts!" an opposition member protested, "What about work?"

"No," the Prime Minister insisted, "Their National Insurance will be revoked and employing a convicted pedophile will be an offence unless the payment is less than one pound an hour."

"This is an outrage!" someone shouted.

"Why?" I asked, "Are you a fucking Pedo?" I enquired as a cackle of nervous laughter echoed around.

"No, are you?" he asked.

"No, I'm just a regular guy, what fucking hates fucking pedos!" I insisted.

"Order, Order!" the Speaker interjected, "Moderate you language please Mr Allthwaite, would you please continue Prime Minister."

I was pissed off, they nicked my idea and fucked it up, it was annoying so I headed for the commons bar.

(I wrote the last bit, good innit?)

I went in and ordered a pint of Stella, the cunt of a barman said, "Oh I'm afraid we don't have any sir."

"Right I'll have cats piss like that cunt," I said pointing at a glass of Lager.

"Certainly sir, that will be fifty pee," he says well you have to have some perks don't you?

I'd hardly got me chops around it when, "Mr Allthwaite!" this female voice says, "What's going on, why aren't you involved in the debate?"

She must have been thirty, well worn lived in face, bottle blonde hair dressed like a clone of Maggie Thatcher.

"Too fucking boring, fucking cunt's nicked me idea," I said.

"That Mr Allthwaite is politics." she said

"Fucking Labour don't like it," I said.

"Look, Mr Allthwaite," she said, "I'm Jennie by the way, but you need to compromise Mr Allthwaite."

"Fuck that I got principles." I said.

"I thought you just want the allowances and back handers," she insisted, "What principles?"

"Them, look after Johnno Allthwaite." I says.

"What do you really want?" she asked.

"Fucking screw right now if I'm honest, all this talk of branding pedos makes me horny." I said, "Where can I find a tart?"

"Fifty pounds all right?" she asked with a smile.

"What?" I asked, "You? on the game?"

"Yes, then we can talk privately," she said, "Pillow talk!"

"Right," I says looking at her, "Where?"

"Oh there's lots of places, come with me!" she said.

"Compromise," she said as she bounced on my cock, "Something everyone can agree on," she said.

"What?" I asked.

"Well instead of hanging them from a lamp post by their bollocks why not simply paint their balls red and make them wear testicular clamps with an anal hook!" she said.

"Christ!" I said, "Testicular clamps what the fuck's that?"

"You don't know about testicle clamps?" she said, "Oh you have had a sheltered life haven't you!"

"No!" I said.

"Bollock clamps I expect you call them," she suggested, "And combined with an Anal hook, an ass hook as you would call it," she explained, "It could form the basis for a lucrative niche market product range," she added without missing a single bounce and she used my cock like a pogo stick as I lay there on my back looking up at her tits bouncing up and down.

"What's the fucking point?" I asked, "Who's going to fucking know or is it to slow the fuckers down. "

"No," she said, "Oh nooooo," she gasped.

"Oh bollocks!" I said, "Christ I'm going to cum!" the velvet touch of her tight cunt had worn down my resistance and I was well on my way to pumping spunk and I couldn't pull out because she was on top.

"Pull out, pull out we ain't using!" I shouted but she just ground against me.

"Do your fucking worst Allthwaite!" she whispered, "Fuck meeee."

My mind exploded along with me balls and I shot me load deep inside her, "Fuuuucccckkk," I squealed.

"MMMmmmm," she cooed, "I do just love a man who can come like a fire hose!"

"We aim to please," I said, "You're not so bad for a Londoner," I added.

"No," she said, as she climbed off me, "I suppose not," she said and added, "If you will excuse me," she said and she started to wipe herself on a towel which just happened to be there in the office.

"Now my idea, " she said, "Is we paint the Pedos balls red!" she said.

"Why?" I asked.

"As a warning of course!" she said.

"No one will see!" I pointed out.

"No," she said, "You don't understand,"They wont be able to get trousers over their their testicular clamps," she explained, "So they can either have their testicles, I mean bollocks hang down through a slit in the crotch of their trousers," she said lingeringly, "Or they can wear a skirt."

"You just have to be joking!" I said.

"No, actually," she said, "We have had talks with a major high street retailer and I see a market for half a million units per year."

"Fucks sake!" I said.

"Net profit twenty pounds per unit," she said, "Ten percent for you, well for us actually, I want half."

"How," I says.

"Get an ammendment passed," she said, "Pedos must have their balls painted red and clamped with a," she paused, "A bollock clamp as you call it and must wear an ass hook at all times when in a public place."

"No way," I said, "That ent poncy enough, and what about the branding on their foreheads?"

"Oh, how about a tattoo?" she asked.

"Yeah, that's it tatto PEDO across just above their eyes and hitch a weight on their bollocks to slow the sods down and I reckon we cracked it," I chuckled.

"Mr Allthwaite," Jennie said, "I think we are going to be a great team!"

"Team?" I asked, and I saw her scooping me spunk into a test tube.

"Sorry," she said, "But I'm not getting any younger," she said, "I'm afraid I'm going to have your child, IVF you see.

"Daft bitch," I said, "You can have it draft any time you want."

"Do you mean it?" she asked.

"Except I ain't paying fifty quid," I insisted.

"No," she said thoughtfully as she looked at my dick before she bent down and took me in hand and began to suck.

"OOhhhh," it was fucking brilliant.

There was a polite knock at the door, "Jennie?" a voice asked.

"Um busy!" she said as she sucked me hard again.

"I have Hugo and Jason here," the voice said.

"Come in then." she said.

The door opened, "What the fuck!" I exclaimed.

"This is Mr Spencer," Jennie explained.

"Ah our prototype pedo range, carefully tailored for the new pedophile regulations." the man in a neat pinstripe suit explained, "Jason is wearing a double breasted medium weight jacket with patent pedo trousers and simple plain black leather brogues."

I stared, he had a jacket like a bad gangster movie, tight trousers, I mean tight, so tight his balls was hanging through a slit in his crotch and this polished aluminium bar went from a chrome clamp around his balls and disappeared up his ass as far as I could see.

"I can fucking see that, Christ he's got red balls!" I exploded.

"Yes red balls as per our suggestion, the red balls suggestion." Jennie explained.

"Red balls, I thought she was talking about Ed Balls that labour bloke what talks balls," I joked.

"No, the proposal is that we paint their balls red," the man explained, "And we fit a bespoke ass hook and ball clamp so that their cock is in their trousers and their balls hang low where everyone can see they are pedos."

"How do they shit, how do they get their trousers off?" I asked.

"We are working on that as we speak but frankly Mr Allthwaite," he said, "I don't actually care."

"And the beauty is do you see, its so easy to kick the pedo in the testicles," Jennie explained, "If you see him too near a child."

"And what do the pedos think of it?" I asked.

"Look I am not a pedophile," Jason insisted, "I am a perfectly ordinary gay porn and cross dressing performer."

"Right, so how do you like an ass hook up your jacksy and your balls clamped?" I asked.

"It's rather pleasant actually," he said, "There's no need to jerk off, in fact I came three times on the bus on the way here!"

"You had the skirt over your trousers though didn't you Jason?" the guy in the suit corrected.

"Most of the time," he said.

"What about weights?" I asked.

"The four pound is too much but the two pound, well," Jason said, "Oh my god I jogged fifty yards and started cumming like a fire hose."

"It stimulates the testicles, I mean bollocks and makes them cum," Jennie explained.

"And Hugo is modelling the singe breasted jacket with knee boots in leather and the leather miniskirt," the man explained.

"Show them your balls Hugo" Jennie suggested

Hugo lifted his skirt, his balls were swinging low from a real tight aluminium clamp held with socket head screws and you could see the ass hook going up in his ass through a big rubber grommet.

"Show him your cock harness Hugo," Jennie insisted, and I was shocked to see his stiff cock strapped to his crotch so the tip was up by his belly button held by like a pair of crotchless latex pants with five or six leather straps each with a tiny padlock.

"Christ, how does he piss?" I asked.

"We are working on it, but it is not a priority," the man said

"Doing a hand stand over the Khasi worked earlier," Hugo admitted, "But otherwise I just piss myself, and wipe it off my stomach with a rag, it's quite pleasant really."

"You're not supposed to fucking like it!" I exploded.

"But Mr Allthwaite don't you see, we can get the National Pedophile Association to agree to this treatment for exactly that reason." Jennie explained.

"Why would anyone give a fuck what they think?" I asked.

"Backhanders Mr Allthwaite," Jennie explained, "You don't think MP's can live on eighty thousand a year do you?"

"Fuck me, I was on minimum wage last year, I done all right!" I explained.

"But this is London, call girls cost a thousand a night not a bag of chips and a bowl of cornflakes for breakfast next morning!" Jennie explained.

"That's Rochdale love, not Weatherfield," I explained, "Fifty quid a half hour round our way, hundred for Bunglas and that lot."

"But Mr Allthwaite, here is a great opportunity.!" Jennie pleaded,

"Ok, ten per cent, and I fuck you any time I want," I offered.

"I say!" Hugo spluttered.

"I meant fucking Jennie!" I corrected, "For fucks sake!"

"Then we have a deal," Jennie said, "Thank you Mr Spencer, Jason, Hugo, you can go now."

"No, sit in public gallery and stand up and show your balls when I says about it!" I suggested.

"Yes, I'll just make a phone call," Jennie said and she fished out her mobile phone and dialled a number, "Daddy, yes, plan A, ok?" she suggested, "Ok I'll tell him! she said.

"Daddy says you'll have to come to dinner," she said to me, "Don't worry, I'll roll up the carpets and sprinkle sawdust on the floor to make you feel at home!"

"What's plan A?" I asked.

"Your ammendment, our ammendment," she explained awkwardly, "Daddy will see the PM gets it, Daddy is a senior member in the house of lords do you see," Jennie said.

"And we really need the money Mr Allthwaite," she said, "

"What was plan B?" I asked.

"I threaten to say you raped me," she admitted.

"And what if I hadn't wanted to screw you?" I asked.

"Mr Allthwaite it's well known you will screw anythng in a skirt," she laughed, "Except Hugo perhaps!"

I went back into the chamber of the house of commons and fought me way towards the despatch box which was difficult as the place was pretty well packed now as MPs got wind of something being planned.

"Order, Order," The speaker ordered. "The Prime Minister."

"Thank you Mr Speaker, I shall be brief," the Prime Minister lied in his plummy upper class accent, "I have a note proposing an ammendment to the identification of pedophiles bill now before us from a Mr John Allthwaite member for Wheatherfield North I believe, and I give way for Mr Allthwaite to explain his ammendment.

"Mr Allthwaite," the speaker ordered.

I pushed me way forward till I was in range of one of the microphones.

"Well squire," I started all official like, "It's like this, all these laws start off well intentioned and get fucked up, like speed limits and that, no one gives a fuck after a bit so why fucking bother?"

I had a breath, "But I seen the light, we can't bollock every pedo, and we can't hang every one from a lamp post but what we can do is make wear a bollock clamp and have a hook rammed up their jacksies, but what we can't do is brand them across the forehead with a branding iron," I explained, "There aren't enough blacksmiths, but they can fucking well have PEDO tattooed across their forehead, because there are loads of Tattoo parlours round our way, and we can do is have their balls clamped easy enough as there's loads of unemployed engineers that can make bollock clamps and make ass spikes as well, but what I say is make them paint their balls red as well."

You could have heard a fucking pin drop. "Red Balls means a Pedo!" I said.

"Now I had discussions with an engineering firm round by Trafford Park," I said lying me head off, "And they can do them in anodised ally or chrome steel or in iron depending on what we want, and when we finished the slogan Red Balls means a PEDO, can be as much a part of English culture as the Green Cross Code, as Engish as Vindaloo or a Kebab after match of the day," I prattled on like Churchill used to.

"What about human rights!" someone shouted.

"Mr Speaker we already dealt with that," the Prime Minister explained, "We re classify them as non domestic animals, carry on Mr Allthwaite."

"Uh, righto, where was I, oh yes," I says, "But best of all this works, see if you plug their ass with a six inch chrome hook and strap their cock to their belly then you collar their bollocks, and hang a weight on their balls then they can't stop themselves cumming," I explained, "And if they comes all the time then they haven't got any jizz left for kiddies."

"Exactly," the Prime minister added, "Half of them will cum as soon as they sit down, because by doing so they will squash their own bollocks, all in all it is as effective as bollocking them and a lot cheaper if you think of the potential damage to Lamp Posts and associated street furniture!"

The Prime Minster sat down again, "Mr Allthwaite," The Speaker ordered,

There was all this jeering and I waited for the cat calls to subside, "I fucking won the Weartherfield North By election on the platform of bollocking pedos," I ranted, ""Elected Mr Speaker on a single platform, Pedophiles, a commitment Mr Speaker to hang every single pedophile in the country from a Lamp post , but Mr Speaker if I can't do that then this is the answer!" I paused the shouted, "Show them Jason, Hugo."

There was a gasp as they stood up proudly showing their balls clamped in the shiny aluminium clamps, with the other ends formed onto six inch chromed hooks and shoved up their asses the red anodised weights swinging and their cocks strapped to their bellies, "And the best bit the Pedos themselves love it they jack themselves off all the time, they can't help it!"

There was fucking uproar.

"The electorate has spoken, we ignore them at our peril," the Prime Minister shouted but he was drowned by the row.

Speaker ordered, "Order Order," and when it subsided he said again "The Prime Minister,"

"Thank you Mr Speaker," The Prime minister intoned "Can we please put this measure to the vote?"

"Those content say Aye," The Speaker ordered.

"Eye!" the shout went up.

"And the fucking pedos shout No!" I ordered.

"And the Noes?" the speaker asked.

I eyeballed the bastards and not one so much as opened his gob to say no.

"The Ayes have it I think," The Speaker announced, "Now item thirty seven ammendments to the Local Government miscellaneous provisons act twenty fifteen."

I stood up and queued up to leave the chamber, it took fucking ages as every fucker wanted to get out and get a bevvy in the commons bar and only about three really sad bastards stopped there to do the fucking boring bit.

Jennie was waiting for me, "Well done," she said, "I have Mr Head of the BBC and Miss Evans from Sky waiting to interview you."

"Fuck them I want a bevvy," I said.

"Now John," she says, no fucker had called me John since primary school, "I went to a lot of trouble to set these interviews up," and she scrunched her face up all sad like."

"Right," I says, "I'll do it!"

The BBC bloke poked a microphone in my face, "Congratulations!" he says, "I suppose you think you're very clever?"

"No, average bloke me, I just hate pedos." I said.

"I meant your forthcoming marriage to Miss Hawkinge," he said.

"It slipped out sorry darling," said Jennie.

"I thought it stopped in what with you bouncing," I said and watched the blokes face as he realised I was about to say Fuck on live TV," About here there and everywhere," I said, "But fair enough, you're up the duff so I'll stand by you!" I said.

She fucking smiled, what the fuck was she playing at, "Daddy's livid of course," she said.

"But Mr Allthwaite," the reporter asked, "Tattooing Pedos, where does it end, tattooing ASBO for Antisocial behaviour?"

"That a fucking good idea," I said, "Write it down Jen, but see pedos was generally perved when they was kids, they likes it up the ass see and our proposal it gives them six inches of rock hard steel up their jacksy, and a nice snug bollock clamp keeping them hard."

"Are you saying pedophiles like wearing a testicle clamp and anal hook?" he asked.

"Absolutimo," I said, "And the tattoo means they know who they is so they can get together and have a yarn."

"Yes we have done tests," Jennie butted in again, "And eight out of ten Pedophiles prefer the testicular clamp, ass hook and tattooing to the alternatives."

"Alternatives?" he asks.

"Getting hung from a lamp post by their bollocks," I says, "Fucking branded with a red hot iron, if they screws kiddies they deserves what ever they gets."

"And you Mr Allthwaite, have you never screwed a kiddy?" the bloke asks menacingly.

"John likes a slightly more mature woman, don't you John," Jennie asks and she playfully grabs at me balls through me jeans and squeezes me nuts.

"Yeah and plenty of them!" I says and she squeezes so fucking hard I screams.

"No John. just me!" she insisted.

Many years later.

"John," Jennie said as she woke me in our four poster bed in the green wing at our brand new mansion overlooking Cameron's semi in Witney, "I just had a wonderful idea."

"Yes Darling?" I said.

"Pedolympics," she said.

"Imagine the fucking one hundred metres hurdles!" I said "Whacking their bollocks against every fucking hurdle!"

"It's a hundred and ten metres darling," Jennie said, "But Ellie is very keen on getting into event management."

"I thought she was going to be a prostitute when she grows up?" I countered.

There was a polite knock at the door, "Excuse me Sir John, but the King's father is on the phone, seem he would like you to address a commonwealth conference on Pedophillia.

"Tell Charlie I'll ring him back," I said, "Lady Allthwaite need reminding what a good shagging feels like!"

"Oh In do hope so," Jennie said wistfully, "I get so bored with the same cock morning noon and night!"

"You bloody cow!" I said and she grinned as I climbed aboard ready to give her a portion.

The end?

anonymous readerReport

2012-10-07 08:56:14
Allthwaite has it right, That Pedo raoed and murdered a little girl near Machunthleth in whales, he should be hing until pretty much dead and fed to the pigs just before he diesso he can be in agony as he is et . Pedos don't have rights, off with their cocks, off wuth their willies.


2012-10-05 03:32:29
What's it going to take to get this POS to stop writing?

anonymous readerReport

2012-08-21 07:27:14
Some good ideas in there, maybe you shold send a copy to David Cameron or Ed Milliband?

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