Paul Flynn - The New Book & Home Flipping.

There is an old saying from The Bible, ""He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone" and the Rt Hon. MP Paul Flynn must be without sin.

For he has cast many a stone at the evil baby eating Tories, cast stones at all who disagree with the Rt Hon. Paul Flynn MP and now we see that he is not as perfect as he would have us believe.

As well as publishing the expenses claims of MPs, the Commons authorities have published a spreadsheet showing which members "flipped" their second home desingation over the course of the year that the files cover. There are more than 50 of them.

Now guess who has flipped his home? Yes Mr Flynn, Now flipping a home does not imply wrongdoing, but in the past some MPs have used the power to bill the taxpayer for furnishing several properties.

Strange how he has not mentioned that. Maybe Mr Flynn not try walking on water any time soon.
A full list of flipping an fiddling MP's, can be found here: The Rt Hon. house flippers list.

Also a mysterious e-mail appeared with a draft of what appears to be Mr Flynn's new book which I first mentioned here and is helped along by Iain Dale.(A dof of the cap to Brew Wales)
The autobiography of Paul Flynn MP
Chapter 1, Born with a beard

I was born in Tiger Bay, then an up and coming slum of Cardiff. The hovel my parents lived in has now been demolished and an Asda supermarket has been built on the site, hence my Early Day Motion for a Blue Plaque to be placed on the aisle celebrating my birth, just above where the feminine hygiene products are on the shelves today.


I was fortunate to be born in Wales, for my Irish parents had escaped the potato famine only by eating my older siblings and my mother had to sell herself to the occupying English soldiers in order to pay for the voyage to escape Ireland. My parents had hoped to start a new life in America but the captain of the ship, who was a conservative, had tricked them and offloaded them at Cardiff Docks in the fog, telling them it was New York. The Statue of Liberty, they were told by the Tory captain, was hidden in the fog.


My parents found an unoccupied cellar in which to live in. The cellar had previously been used by the hated Tory, the Marchioness of Bute, who had used it to keep his black slaves in when they were unloaded from his African slave ships before being transported to Castle Coch where they would be worked to death picking grapes and making wine on his estate.


My birth, in 1935 coincided with the 'Cardiff Dock Riots' at which the British Union of Fascists were soundly beaten by a multi-cultural gang of Irish, Somali and Norwegian sailors. The blood of the fascists poured from the street into our cellar and mixed with the natal blood from my mother. It was an inconspicuous beginning to my political career.


I was, of course, born with a beard, it is a genetic condition that I inherited from my mother, all the women in my family have beards, its a condition that in later years led to the suicide of my daughter, that and her dependence on heroin. The Tories, were, of course, the real reason behind her death.


Growing up in what is now referred to as Cardiff Bay was tough – the long walk to the pump to collect water, past the prostitutes plying their trade and the constant bombing by the Luftwaffe all made life difficult. The Tories had of course stuck lights on the rooves of the Tiger Bay hovels to help the Luftwaffe towards the targets.


However the books of Marx and Lenin helped get me through my childhood. I can remember when one of the hated family members of Lord Bute paid a visit to Tiger Bay – I stood there in my barefeet and rags as his carriage drove passed pulled by four horses. The only horses we usually saw down there were the pieces of meat hanging in the butchers or from the old nags at the rendering factory where my father worked for the hated Tory owners. As his carriage passed I refused to doff my cap to his Lordship. It was my way of rebelling. Who'd have thought that 70 years later this scruffy ragamuffin would be sat on the hallowed green benches of the House of Commons, proudly running the country from the furthest back bench possible?

Chapter 2(coming soon)
How the Tories are to blame for everything...

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