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GORDON Brown last night dismissed calls to surrender his £123,000 a year pension when he is forced to stop being prime minister next June.

You pay for his house too
Mr Brown was defiant in the face of City outrage despite the UK government’s annual operating loss of £100bn, rising to £1.5 trillion when the write-down of its banking assets is taken into account.
The prime minister said: “I’ve been building up this pension since I became an MP, it’s all completely legal and now you want to take it away because I’ve been catastrophically bad at my job and you’re looking for a scapegoat. What gives?”
He added: “Yes I’ve been in charge of financial regulation for 12 years, yes I encouraged the housing bubble, and yes I pissed billions up the wall giving pointless jobs to Labour voters, but I fail to see what any of this has to do with me being incredibly well off.”
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Four professionals – an engineer, a chemist, an accountant and an IT contractor – were all boasting about how clever their dogs were.
The engineer said that his dog could do something pretty impressive, so the others asked him to show them. “Setsquare, come here” shouted the engineer, “do your stuff.” The dog walked over, picked up a ruler and a pencil and drew a perfect square on a piece of paper that was on the floor. The others agreed that this was pretty impressive.
The chemist also said that his dog was very intelligent, and offered to show the others. “Prescription, come here, do your stuff”. Prescription ran over and went to the fridge, where he took out a bottle of milk. Then he took a 10ml glass and poured the milk into the glass, right up to the top of the rim, without spilling any. Again everyone thought this was pretty cool.
Then the accountant called his dog over. “Spreadsheet, get to work”. Spreadsheet ran into the kitchen and brought out a box of twelve biscuits. He then opened the box and divided the biscuits into four equal piles of three each. The four professionals were suitably impressed.
They turned to the IT contractor and said “What can your dog do?” The IT contractor called his dog over. “Chargeable, come over here, get to work.” Chargeable ambled over, drank the milk, ate the cookies, dumped on the paper, shagged the three other dogs, presented a bill for seven thousand pounds, lit a cigar, got into his Lotus and screeched off into the sunset.
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