As you can see, my revolution is sweeping Pakistan with everything crumbling in my whirlwind. Time for a whirlwind romance again – wink, wink! People from all over the world are flocking to my standard. There was this young Brit-Pak at my dharna yesterday. I asked him, “what brings you here?” He said, “No one understands me in Britain. I used to have a lot of mates. One night, I went drinkin’ with them to a bar when I suddenly realized I desperately needed to pass gas. The music was really, really loud so I timed my farts with the beat. After a couple of songs I started to feel better. I finished me beer and noticed that everyone was starin’ at me. Then I suddenly remembered I was listenin’ to me iPod. Rejected by me friends I joined the international jihad. Then me mum went an taped Easteanders over me martyrdom video. So now I’ve come to Pakistan an joined the PTI haven’t I.”
Look at Pakistan’s pathetic politicians – other than those who are in the PTI, of course. They’re all cowering in their rat holes, terrified of the revolution that’s coming. They’re afraid of losing their power and their money. I’m raising funds to give them all one way tickets to London. And if they fear becoming exiled, aged non-entities, I’m offering them a new miracle anti-ageing pill. It’s a cyanide tablet.
But between you and me, sometimes I get scared of my own rhetoric when I see the blood in my tigers and cheetahs’ eyes. Last night I dreamt I was standing on top of my container making a strange speech, “You’re not going to like this, my tigers and cheetahs, but I’ve decided that we’re going to go back to the old Islamic values of tolerance, generosity and politeness”. There was an almighty roar and they overturned my container and began to claw their way towards me. I woke up in a cold sweat.
Some people in my party are still whining about why I sacked Javed Hashmi. Nobody asked my heroine Maggie Thatcher why she sacked her Chancellor of the Exchequer Sir Geoffrey Howe. In fact, when I met him at a party soon thereafter, I shouted, “HOWE’S THAT?”
Look at Pakistan’s pathetic politicians – other than those who are in the PTI, of course. They’re all cowering in their rat holes, terrified of the revolution that’s coming. They’re afraid of losing their power and their money. I’m raising funds to give them all one way tickets to London. And if they fear becoming exiled, aged non-entities, I’m offering them a new miracle anti-ageing pill. It’s a cyanide tablet.
But between you and me, sometimes I get scared of my own rhetoric when I see the blood in my tigers and cheetahs’ eyes. Last night I dreamt I was standing on top of my container making a strange speech, “You’re not going to like this, my tigers and cheetahs, but I’ve decided that we’re going to go back to the old Islamic values of tolerance, generosity and politeness”. There was an almighty roar and they overturned my container and began to claw their way towards me. I woke up in a cold sweat.
Some people in my party are still whining about why I sacked Javed Hashmi. Nobody asked my heroine Maggie Thatcher why she sacked her Chancellor of the Exchequer Sir Geoffrey Howe. In fact, when I met him at a party soon thereafter, I shouted, “HOWE’S THAT?”
Im the Dim