Carrie Antoinette’s Dead Cat Diary

Let them eat cake.


Carrie Antoinette’s position at Conservative Campaign HQ (CCHQ) improved when, after eight weeks of cohabitation, she started having children. She became increasingly unpopular among the people, however, with the Liberal elite accusing her of being profligate and harbouring sympathies for England’s perceived enemies – particularly her Friends in Russia.

The accusations of the Affair of the Awful Chintz damaged her reputation further. During the Revolution, she became known as Madame Déficit because the country’s financial crisis was blamed on her lavish spending on home decor and her opposition to any form of progressive social and financial reform[1].

Carrie Antoinette is a world beating distributor of dead cats. Her diary is leaked to us by a secret source at Number 10.

[1]  This biography is a parody of the Marie Antoinette wikipedia entry.

May 23 2021

April 25 2021

Apologies if you’ve been looking for this page but we had a complaint about the shunk photo and while we’re looking for an alternative here is the standby photo

Photo by Max Kleinen on Unsplash

But that Arrghh that skunk Cummings. He needs to be a dead skunk. Not writing his memoirs in Belmarsh. Scumbag. Skunkbag even. I really, really thought I’d finally boshed that man right out of my hair.

Bouis was sooo grateful, “Oh thank you, Cazziekins, thank you! It’s so restful without him and Sonic and Roxstar plotting the downfall of Western civilisation in the office every coffee break. Now go and slip into something more patriotic, sweetie, and let me express my thanks, just the way you like it.” For a few days, he was even happy to watch the Meerkat Manor repeats that the Beeb (may it rest in peace) has got on the iPlayer.

But, oh no. Scumbag is back and this time he’s got the receipts. Not that there are any actual receipts of course. Not for the flat makeover. Which, by the way, does NOT look like it was bought in bulk from John Lewis, let me tell you.

At least Allegra’s stupid new briefing room has been scotched. Good.

Now where’s Larry? I need to kick something. Then eat cake.

April 18 2021

Mr Piggy is also doing a good job on the distraction front, the third worse prime minister in history shielding the worst. Wonder what we’ve got on May? Basically, let’s deflect all the sleaze onto him.

And no sooner is Phil the Greek buried than we have this European super league. My god, it’s like someone planned it this way.

Nothing about Brexit. Nothing about Arcuri. Nothing about PPE. Har-har dee ha.

Now where’s Larry? I need to kick something. Then eat cake.

April 9 2021

Golly golly gosh gosh. Not just a dead cat. A dead royal cat (or is that a royal dead cat?), and a controversial one at that. What an opportunity. I mean, he basically vindicates the Sewell race rubbish report, with the BBC already brushing his racist stuff off as nothing but banter. Just like Boris’ letterboxes and picaninnies. He’s definitely much more Philip or Edward than Winston, who would never have flirted with fascists.

What can we slide under the coffin lid, I wonder? Could uncle Vlad snip off some more of Ukraine?

We can forget Rishi, David and Greenshill for a few days, unless of course I decide otherwise. Definitely forget Northern Ireland. Hell, we could probably sneak off to Mustique and no one would notice, at least, not if we slip the mail and express some juicy story or two. Must ring the FSB office, see what they’ve got.

Meanwhile, cue the media blackout during the mourning period. Fucking A, we don’t have to answer questions from any awkward journalists. Not that there’s many of them left.

Hope they stretch it as long as possible. There’s a lot of bad news to sweep under the carpet of state. Eight days?

Now where’s Larry? I need to kick something. Then eat cake.

March 28 2021

JennyFlags, Flags, Flaggiffer FilthyCuri I am not, repeat not, wearing Jennifer’s discarded Union Jack drawers. The filthy pig will pay for that. Now that is one dead cat if I get my chance.

Now where’s Larry? I need to kick something. Then eat cake.

March 10 2021 

So with the Drone room having sunk without a trace, we are back in deep Bridge over the Troubles’ water. Do we really want more navvies’ and bombers? But heigh ho, it’s not as if it will ever be built, is it? Although what a legacy that would be for an independent Scotland. Ha, ha. The maintenance would be punitive. 

I wonder what a drone strike on Belfast would look like? Now that would be something to make the ERG happy. Perhaps I can get someone to wargame it? All fun and games until someone loses an eye. Or a cat. 

Now where’s Larry? I need to kick something. Then eat cake.

March 6 2021

It’s post box Saturday and I should have been posting a nice picture of the post box in Lincoln, but can I find the fucker? No. It’s lost in the chintz. And now the news is full of talk about Allegra’s brand new £2.6 million press room. Meanwhile, Bouis dePiffle Jeanfils Jr has been been found to have misled parliament by a court (naughty boy!), but I think everyone is too fixed on royal goings on and the nurses’ 1% so no one will notice. And we’ll raise that in a few days if we need to hide it some more. 

Slimey little Gove (where’re my slug pellets?) is also helping getting caught lying to the ONS. Good. I’d hate to see that Vine woman in here. 

Now where’s Larry? I need to kick something. Then eat cake.

March 3 2021

Bouis dePiffle Jeanfils tells me he is having problems with his Northern Ireland Protocol (he hasn’t touched me for weeks) and it would be good if I could talk in public about the difficulties I am having with funding my new wallpaper on the couch, so that people don’t mention his little problem. The absolute toolbox. He’ll pay. I’ll make him do something he doesn’t want to, like praising Rishi, or putting Gavin Williamson on the evening news.

But it’s true we can’t have people talking about us breaking international law, we need to keep a simple message out that it’s the EUs fault if they notice at all. Luckily, can get Chloe and Allegra to push this and also the Meghan and Harry story. Good stuff. Can’t have anyone upstaging me. It’s bad enough having to tolerate that women at the Home Office they tell me is unsackable because a) she’s pro-Brexit and b) she has friends in Mossad and d) she knows where Boris partied in July 2019.

Now where’s Larry? I need to kick something. Then eat cake.