Julian and the Giant Peach.
The WikiLeaks Party review is out and full of no surprises for anyone, anywhere. For those who believe the party was betrayed by the mob who left crying foul, the review helpfully suggests these people may not have even existed, which must be comforting.
From word go those who joined with WikiLeaks but refused to join the cult have been edged out as soon as they complained of dodgy doings. There is now an international network of ex-WikiLeaks people who have been burned by the cutting edge robot-boy behaviour of Julian Assange, a man well suited to living in a bubble, untroubled by the reality of other clever people.
The review was controlled by Julian's father John Shipton, a manipulator whose charm seems old school but is simply the mask of an elite piece of shit who also never saw a bubble that didn't fit like a calf skin glove. The fucker will create bubbles out of thin air with his bullshit genteel behavior. It's all so lovely and nice cups of tea. I was singled out for loving treatment by John and remember finding his curiosity about my upbringing a bit much. I gave him the benefit of the doubt until it all came down and I realized the cunt had been profiling me at the pub.
The stupidity of these foreheads, both father and son, amazed me until I copped to the fact that it's bog standard brainiac superiority. You read the classics do ya mate? Wow. I can talk to truck drivers, so don't start with your shit.
Don't get me wrong, as an extremely talented and handsome individual the temptations to be a giant turd are all around me. I'm also very smart, so you can imagine my struggle.
Anyway, the WikiLeaks Party is behind us now, WikiLeaks continues to leak useful information and ex-WikiLeaks people join the global network as experienced activists who understand some handsome dork doesn't get to own a movement.
Julian, you're a leader, but you're a shithouse leader. We've got your number, but don't expect a call.
From word go those who joined with WikiLeaks but refused to join the cult have been edged out as soon as they complained of dodgy doings. There is now an international network of ex-WikiLeaks people who have been burned by the cutting edge robot-boy behaviour of Julian Assange, a man well suited to living in a bubble, untroubled by the reality of other clever people.
The review was controlled by Julian's father John Shipton, a manipulator whose charm seems old school but is simply the mask of an elite piece of shit who also never saw a bubble that didn't fit like a calf skin glove. The fucker will create bubbles out of thin air with his bullshit genteel behavior. It's all so lovely and nice cups of tea. I was singled out for loving treatment by John and remember finding his curiosity about my upbringing a bit much. I gave him the benefit of the doubt until it all came down and I realized the cunt had been profiling me at the pub.
The stupidity of these foreheads, both father and son, amazed me until I copped to the fact that it's bog standard brainiac superiority. You read the classics do ya mate? Wow. I can talk to truck drivers, so don't start with your shit.
Don't get me wrong, as an extremely talented and handsome individual the temptations to be a giant turd are all around me. I'm also very smart, so you can imagine my struggle.
Anyway, the WikiLeaks Party is behind us now, WikiLeaks continues to leak useful information and ex-WikiLeaks people join the global network as experienced activists who understand some handsome dork doesn't get to own a movement.
Julian, you're a leader, but you're a shithouse leader. We've got your number, but don't expect a call.
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