It's time to pick some hateful cunt to run the country again and trying to choose a favourite is about as easy as deciding which one of your arms to ram into the whirring cogs of a combine harvester. 
The problem is is that no one in politics understands 'you', mainly because 'you' are a right plonker. Nick Clegg and Ed Miliband have never spent an entire weekend sitting around in their pants eating Space Invaders and wanking into a shoe like you did last weekend. Natalie Bennett has probably never gone out drinking gin until 6am and then vommed it all up into her own lap on the Northern Line in front of an audience of horrified onlookers because she isn't a fucking mess like you are. That doesn't mean these people are in any way better. They're weird. They want to 'run the country' and that takes a spectacularly large ego that pretty much instantly precludes anyone from possibly being a genuinely decent person. There hasn't been a prime minister in history that was actually any good (Churchill went down ok because he won the war but if he hadn't had that then people would have just remembered him as a fat, sarcastic shithouse).
Best thing to do this time round is to 
A) Vote tactically to keep the tories out 
B)Vote Green because they seem like they genuinely might care about you
C)Curl one out onto your ballot paper and lob it into the box like Martin Clunes told me did last election.

Obviously no one's going to vote for Admiral Ackbar and his Waffen SS party so it probably won't be more than a few months until Farage is relegated to the 'where-are-they-now-file' along with Nick Griffin and hopefully it goes without saying that voting for old spam face is a shamefully selfish act that will only benefit those who already have enough. The Tories plan on lifting the hunting ban as well which means, if they get back in, I'll be spending the next five years running away from little bell ends blowing toy trumpets on horse back and I can't be arsed with that thanks.

Anyway, if you're still sitting on the fence staring at your own testicles like my mate Sexy Chris (literally) then hopefully this little guide will help fill you in on all your options. All research conducted by me, Double Denim David, James the Haemophiliac Wood Pigeon and Jonty Bunions (a dog I met behind Wickes).

David Cameron was born in 1947 out of a black egg that was dug up during a bomb disposal in Coventry City Centre
When he was 6 years old he had much of his face reconstructed out of gammon after his brother (Marcel) threw a piping hot bowl of 'Ready brek' into it during a game of eye spy
David Cameron does not believe in Paul Gascoigne and refuses to acknowledge the existence of the ex England attacking midfielder. He once claimed on Newsnight that Gazza was "simply a rumour started by Noel Edmonds on Noel's House Party for a bit of a laugh"
David Cameron owns a pet chicken called Finkel
He has been married 6 times, most famously to ex-Blue Peter presenter Diane-Louise Jordan
In 1998 Cameron was accused of the murder of 212 Chinese cockle pickers after their bodies were found in his garage. After a lengthy court case he was acquitted on the ground of diminished responsibilty
David Cameron can hold his breathe for almost 30 seconds
One of his famous party tricks at Conservative party conferences is to lash a sea lion with a whip he bought from the set of Pirates of The Caribbean: On Stranger Tides. He says he likes to use sea lions because "the whip really tears chunks out of their flesh and gets the crowd going"
David Cameron claims to be able to communicate with the dead using a set of dice that he bought off a shaman in Dubrovnik. Despite being told to stay out of police investigations Cameron has in fact given information that has lead to convictions in three murders cases and has been awarded a badge of honour by Scotland Yard
David Cameron's children are called Ruxpin, Paul Bunting and Mentuhotep III. One of his favourite games to play with the children is to leave them alone in public toilets around the country and see if they survive.
David Cameron's lifelong ambition is to learn how to evaporate and cling to windows and mirrors in the form of condensation.
Ed Milliband began life as a soft toy of an Aardman Animation tortoise and spent much of his early life strapped to the front of a bin lorry until he was brought to life by a child's Christmas wish.
Once free of the curse put on him by the sorcerer Nick Park he went to school and studied leisure and tourism. 
In 2001 he opened the ill-fated 'Ed Millipedes Insect Petting Zoo' in Amersham. After limited success it was finally shut down after a young girl was killed by a funnel-web spider.
Ed  Miliband can hover several centimetres off the ground if required
In 2005 he entered the Turner Prize with a large sculpture which he called 'Pixel'. The piece was a large red cube that opened up on the hour, every hour to expose viewers to large quantities of weapons grade plutonium. After thousands of complaints and several fatalities the Tate gallery eventually removed the piece from the competition. 
Anyone who's been watching coverage of the election campaign will already know that Ed travels everywhere on his little tricycle. He refuses to travel anywhere by car, bus or plane. During his campaign he only managed to visit 58 people in 2 boroughs
Ed Miliband has a tattoo of Screech from Saved By The Bell on his right forearm
Ed only eats Pop Tarts and spends almost 18 hours a day on the toilet 
When he was younger Miliband used to be in a black metal band called Fuckpig. Their debut album 'Worship at the throne of the Necroswine' received KKKK in Kerrang Magazine.
Nicholas Jennifer Fungal Clegg was born in 1967 to his parents 'Wolf' (from Gladiators) and also 'Scorpio', (also from Gladiators). As a child he caused concern to his parents by routinely running away from home and insisting on living in caves. He once went missing for 2 months and reportedly lived on a diet of sticklebacks which he fished out of local streams with what experts describe as "reptilian reflexes and hunting techniques"
Nick Clegg is unique in as so much as his tummy is made of soil, and, if he plants a seed into his belly button, he can nurture plants and vegetables into fruition. In 2007 he grew a pumpkin in his own abdomen that won a prize at the Devonshire County Fair,
Nick Clegg is a lying cunt
Clegg currently holds the record for creating the largest Eccles Cake in the world. It took over 30 000 raisins and 400 pints of milk which he milked from his pet python 'Dangerous Steve'
Clegg's wife Miriam Gonz├ílez Dur├íntez is immortal. She also has the ability to seperrate milk from water using her mind, which, so far, has been useless. 
Clegg wrote his university dissertation on clogs and entitled it 'Clogs by Clegg'. He received a 2:2 for his efforts.
Clegg was once caught stabbing a horse to death with a butterfly knife. When asked by police why he did it he said he was under a lot of pressure from David Cameron and had underestimated the stresses that might have been brought on by being the deputy prime minister.
Clegg's favourite film is Mallrats

As a child, Natalie Bennett's hair was cut off, condensed down and used to create some of the fist examples of the liquid used in lava lamps. Until she was 14 years old Natalie Bennett was bald until she won her case against Mathmos to earn her freedom 
She invented leather jackets
Natalie Bennett is married to a snail called 'Ultra Viper'
She was once held hostage in a bank robbery and escaped by firing poison out of the gills that she has behind her ears.
Bennett is a big fan of 'Daddies Sauce' and one of her leading policies within the Green manifesto is to bring back 'Daddies' and make it a major player in the breakfast condiment scene.
Bennett's house is in the cotswolds and is surrounded by a fence built of Bombay Badboy pot noodle pots



You may have come across this foul-mouthed fox on Twitter, or heard of him through recommendations from Noel Fielding, or even seen him going through your bins. When he’s not harassing members of the public, he enjoys upsetting animals, visiting his friend, Cwis Packham, and a little arts and crafts. Gus is the most flawed little creature, but you have to love him a bit.
I offered Gus some therapy in the form of these seven questions…
1) Meanest thing anyone has ever said to you?
Considering people say all sorts of fucked up shit to me every five minutes, that’s a pretty tough one. It’s weird that these days everyone seems to be knocking about with foxes knitted onto their jumpers and campaigning against us getting fucking murdered by Boris Johnson and such, but whenever I seem to meet anyone when I’m out and about, it’s absolute fucking carnage. I suspect I get treated like horse shit because I look like the result of what would happen if you covered Dean Gaffney in bacon and rolled him down a hill in a barrel full of tampons. People are always kicking me and calling me a revolting little bollocks and I guess when you’re a fox that’s just par for the course. The other day an old lady was watching me wandering about her back garden and I sneezed and all this grey sort of juice came out of my eyes and she threw a tin of pilchards at me and called me a rotten cunt before she was sick on her cat, which was actually pretty funny.
I suppose the meanest thing anyone ever said to me was the absolute tirade of of insults my own dished out on me after they found out that I fucked and killed my own gran. That was an awkward Christmas.
Gus the Fox
© Gus the Fox
2) Who is your favourite person?
I don’t really like most people. I’m not exactly what you’d call a ‘people person’. I quite like Cwis Packham because he invites me over to his bungalow to watch porn and eat Jaffa Cakes. The other day I was over there and Cwis thought it would be funny to nail me to a cross in his back garden and then he invited Adrian Chiles and Frankie from The Saturdays over to spray paint me gold and then they FedEx’ed me to Nicholas Serota and tried to submit me as an early entry to the Turner Prize, so he’s a hardly a fucking saint. Despite the fact that it was the single most painful experience that I’ve ever had to endure it was also a complete waste of fucking time because I ended up looking like a shit Jeff Koons rip-off.
I also like Victoria Coren Mitchell because she’s got two human penises and she showed me them and trusted me not to tell anyone. That’s a huge amount of trust and the sign of a true friend. I’m probably one of the only people to ever see her naked and it’s such a baffling and confusing sight that it makes you feel a little bit giddy.
3) Do you believe there is an afterlife?
Religion’s a funny one. It sort of feels like the whole thing would be redundant by now and everyone would just grow up and stop talking shit but even in this age of enlightenment it feels like there’s still a wave of resurgence and it never goes away. As a fox I was brought up to follow The Mighty Slug but I’m starting to have serious reservations that a slug that was born in 1992 can possibly be the creator of all things. For one thing there’s loads of evidence to suggest that there was life prior to 1992. You only need to have a vague knowledge of Slade and the invention of washing machines to realise that the universe must be more than 23 years old.
I don’t know. Faith is powerful tool. It seems that everyone has their own agenda. I’m always a bit wary of agnosticism. It strikes me that that if you sort of possibly believe that there might be a place that you go to for the rest of eternity after you die it might be a good idea to fucking knuckle down and do some research instead of wasting your life going to Lazer Quest and taking photographs about your dinner on Instagram. Seems like quite an important thing not to be giving your wholehearted attention to.
I hope there is an afterlife because I’ve been watching my cousin, Ian Bannister, slowly decomposing on the side of the North circular ring road for the past few weeks and if that’s how this stupid little life ends for us all then it’s not ideal. He’s got a family of centipedes living in his lifeless, truncated rectum at the moment which isn’t that much of a laugh.
In short, I doubt there’s an afterlife unfortunately. Not least because the term ‘afterlife’ is, in itself an oxymoron and a paradigm. Just because you want something to exist doesn’t make it so. I’m pretending I’m eating a roast dinner at the moment but it’s actually just some soil. Pretending you want something that’s better than what you’ve got might make things slightly easier but it doesn’t mean it’s good for you.
Gus the Fox
© Gus the Fox
4) Something that makes you sad?
Lenny Henry.
5) Are you wise?
Last night I drank loads of WD40 and got so messed up that ate my own testicles in an attempt to make a duck laugh, so I probably wouldn’t say that I’m ‘wise’ exactly. Having said that, I’m probably not as fucking stupid as some of my dickhead mates though. The other day my mate Liam Flint (a frog I know with alopecia) accidentally sold himself into some sort of horrible sex trafficking operation. I don’t know how you even do that to yourself by accident. What a div.
My mate Sexy Chris is a right plum as well. A few years ago he read some stupid Chinese proverb that he found in a fortune cookie or some shit and it said something about ‘building a nest inside your own mind’ which he took literally like some sort of enormous feathery cock. Anyway he spent the next few days shoving all these sticks and bits of fluff into his own head. Just cramming it all into his ears and up his nose until his head was the size of basketball ball and started looking like Alan Sugar with Bell’s Palsy. Anyway he had a seizure and now there’s something wring with his brain because he says that every time he blinks it feels like he’s trapped inside a small box for about 3 weeks. He spends about 90% of the time crying these days which is pretty funny.
Sexy Chris
© Gus the Fox
6) Do you ever feel lonely?
I sometimes do in the winter but during the Spring and Summer months there’s usually loads of wasps and bees knocking about so I’m usually pretty happy with that. If I ever get lonely I’ll usually get married to a moth. I’ve been married to 789 moths to date and I’ve eaten every single one. There’s not many people who can say that… even Martin Clunes has only been married to 4 or 5.
7) What would you eat for your last ever meal?
I was given a ‘last meal’ once before when I got abducted by Tim Henman and he bundled me into his van. He took me into his garage and chained me to his Police Acadamy 7 (Mission to Moscow) pinball machine and held a gun to my head and made me watch him perform a play he’d written about Bombay mix. He made me choose my last meal and I went for the Bombay mix because, in all fairness, it was a captivating performance and quite a good play.
Before he could execute me Henman tripped over and blew his own head off. I was well surprised that that never got in any of the papers.

You're always sharing your mishaps with Twitter from scaring kids to eating them and abusing other animals, what has been the biggest disaster of all? 
When you’re a fox everyone thinks you’re a bit of an arsehole. It feels like whenever I act like a bit of a pillock and eat some kid’s fingers it’s front page news, but last week when i got bummed in a tunnel by a gang of bin men I couldn’t help noticing that it didn’t get a single column inch in any of the fucking papers. I guess when you get messed with as much as I have, you start taking it out on others, especially if you’re a bit of dick. The other day Michael Buerk smashed all my teeth out so that he could turn them into a necklace to sell on because he’d lost all of his money gambling at a cock fighting ring and the whole thing made me so angry that when I bumped into this chaffinch I know called Royce Bubblejet I shoved him into a hot water bottle that I found in the bins and luzzed him into the sea. Sometimes when I think about how much he suffered it makes me laugh so much that I start going dizzy and all this sort of white gel starts  coming out of my nose and I start to have a panic attack.
Anyway, my biggest disaster is when my bollocks fell off and rolled into the canal and got gobbled up by a trout. That was annoying.

Do you consider yourself to be quite misunderstood? Do you think people understand you? 
I reckon foxes are misunderstood. It seems people don’t like us because we smell so bad that it makes most people start crying. I think though, on the whole, people understand me. I think when most people read the things I write on Twitter or on my website, they can tell that I’m a bit of a cunt. There isn’t much more to understand about me really. 
I’ve started a political party recently called FOXUK and I’m planning on running in the next General Election so I’m hoping people understand me enough to get their heads around my manifesto, but I doubt that they will because when I wrote it I’d just accidentally nailed a big fuck-off bag of ketamine that I’d found underneath Zoe Ball’s caravan and, I haven’t read it back for a while, but I think I spent most of the time waffling on about how migratory birds keep coming over to this country and stealing all of our worms which, in the cold light of day, probably isn’t an issue that’s going to win me very many votes from the electorate.

What has been the strangest thing you've discovered on your travels as a Fox? What has been the most fucked up? What has been the funniest?
When you spend your life snooping through areas where polite society fears to tread, you do tend to come across some pretty fucked up nonsense. I’d say the weirdest thing I found was about 6 months ago when me and my mate ‘Very Autistic Paul’ were going for a little wander in some wasteland behind Toy 'R' Us and we found a statue of Sue Barker that had been built out of  ham and gammon and strapped up on a big sort of crucifix. There were loads of hard boiled eggs arranged in concentric circles and someone had written the word ‘Aquafresh’ on every single tree in what looked like a mixture of blood and turds. I remember thinking that was both strange and fucked up even though, and I’m almost ashamed to tell you, it gave me and erection. 
The funniest thing I’ve ever discovered is probably my mate Sexy Chris. He was living in a bottle bank because he’d just lost his job at the owl sanctuary. Apparently he’d been fired because everyone thought he was, and I quote, “a cunt”. He’s pretty annoying because he believes this thing that people say that all owls are ‘wise’. He’s sort of confused the word wise with being a pretentious bell end though so he sits around all day  pretending to read books on existentialism by Jean-Paul Satre even though everyone knows he can’t read for toffee. I looked inside his copy of ‘Notes of the Underground’ by Dostoyevsky once and it was full of Panini stickers and loads of crushed up bits of dead mice.
He makes me laugh though so I like having him around. The other day he didn’t now I was watching him watching University Challenge and he answered ‘Quavers’ for every single question. I punched him as hard was I could in the chest and he laid a sort of square egg which wasn’t normal.

What are your top 5 most prized possessions? 
1 - My box of dead wasps
2 - A photograph I bought off Ebay of Gary Lineker’s toilet
3 - The taxidermied remains of my Uncle Horton. (He’s been taxidermied into an amusing pose where he’s having sex with a dead chimp wearing a pork pie hat. It would be quite amusing I suppose if it wasn’t such an enormous insult to the lives of two sentient beings and didn’t inspire such intense and unsettling nightmares. I feel sort of duty bound not to lob it in the canal nonetheless)
4 - I’ve got this toaster that someone’s glued fake eyelashes and a dildo onto. I like that
5 - …I don’t actually own anything else

If you could be one other animal, what would it be and why?
I’d probably be a moth. I don’t know how long they live, probably only a couple of weeks but imagine it, those weeks would be absolute puree fucking ecstasy. I fucking love moths. I’ve been married to dozens. The last one died because I kissed it and it got stuck to my tongue and I had to spit it onto the side of a Toyoto Rav 4

What is the most criminal thing you've ever done?
I technically can’t break the ‘law’ because I’m a fox. Having said that, the other day a farmer caught me having sex with all of his chickens and he tied me to his tractor and called the police. The police decided to punish me with their own unique brand of ‘eye for and eye’ justice. I’m no expert on the law but surely raping a fox is no way to restore order in an already corrupt and downward-spiralling society. I can get away with that sort of tomfoolery because I’m an animal. What they did is just bonkers to say the least. I’d love to get my hands on the video footage.

You often catch celebrities doing pretty messed up things, like Vernon Kay having sex with dogs in a tunnel. What has been the most traumatic?
Haha yeah. That was a funny old Christmas Day. I don’t know, I suppose that would have to be up there. I don’t know about traumatic but the most annoying at the moment is the fact that Bruce Forsyth keeps scrambling into my hole in the middle of the night and slapping me around the face with his penis. He does it every single bloody night and films it on his iphone because, apparently, he’s making some kind of happy-slapping-hidden-camera-prank show for Channel 5 which you wouldn’t really expect from old Brucie. I don't suppose it’ll go down as being his finest hour if he gets it on the TV.

Does Gus the Fox have a love interest? 
Not at the moment. I cracked one out onto a swan’s back the other day but I wouldn’t call it love. He certainly didn’t.

Have you ever been to Liverpool on your travels? What do you think of scousers? What do you think of the 'scouse brow' trend? 
I’ve not been to Liverpool to be honest but I do spend most of my life hanging around with people addicted to super strength lager and heroin  so I’ve obviously met loads. There’s a tramp who lives in a warehouse just up the canal called Guy Trinket and he’s always banging on about how he comes from The Wirral. He’s a good lad, I like him. Last night he head-butted a squirrel because he said it was looking at him like a queer.
I’ve heard of the scouse brow thing.  Loads of owls think they’re they’re the fucking bollocks now just because they happen to have massive eyebrows as well. I’ve heard Alistair Darling has just been offered a modelling contract for Moschino. Is that true?

What do you think of the Beatles? Which was your favourite? What do you think of the remaining Beatles?
One of FOXUK’s biggest pieces of legislation is the promotion of more vegetarian options in the public sector so that the world isn’t completely fucked in about five years. With that in mind I’ve got to stick with Macca. He’s a good lad but I did see some video he posted online the other day where he started rapping in a Jamaican accent about ‘Meat Free Mondays’. It’s one of the weirdest things I’ve ever seen and isn’t anywhere near as good as most of the songs he wrote with The Beatles. I don’t know what’s wrong with him at the moment but I think he needs a hug.

If you could do one thing to change the world, what would it be? 
Well hopefully I will. Russell Brand tells us not to bother voting so that we can insight a sort of revolution but I say why waste your vote not voting when you can waste in a much funnier way by voting a fox into power? I’ll fuck it up so much that we’ll go back the stone age. It’ll be great. I’ve got a lot of good ideas about animal liberation, ecology and closing tax loopholes in an attempt to try and minimise the fucking ludicrous divide between the rich and the poor but if I could only do one thing to change the world then I’d probably get rid of all the herons. I don’t think we really need them, they don’t contribute that much to society, you barely even see the big lanky cunts and when you do they’re usually saying something racist and stupid. I don’t think we’d really miss them.

Who is the most interesting person you've ever met?
I’d probably say my mate Cwis Packham off the telly. He’s always up to weird and interesting stuff. At the moment  he’s taken to glueing bits of lettuce to every inch of his body 24/7 because he’s got some theory that it’ll make him live forever. He’s weird as well because he’s always banging on about how much he loves birds but his bungalow is full of birds that he’s trained to do different jobs for him like a flock of avian butlers. He’s got a magpie that he’s trained to put the toilet seat up and down, he’s got a chaffinch that can operate the toaster and he’s got all these cockatoos that he calls his ‘whore birtds’ that do all sorts of weird things for him in the bedroom. It’s really odd in Packham’s bungalow. Absolutely covered in bird shit.

Who is the biggest dickhead you've ever met and why? 
David Cameron because he killed and ate my mate Yorrick Todd. Did you know Cameron can fire a web out of his abdomen like a spider. I shouldn’t really be talking about this.

Do you have a celebrity icon? 
Not really. Most celebrities are fucking plums to be honest. The only person I would call an ‘icon’ is this badger I know called Tim Horn and that’s only because he’s got these little denim shorts that he wears with a pretty cool Guns ’N’ Roses belt which, actually, when you consider he’s a badger, doesn’t so much make him an icon as it does a cock.
You met my mate Noel recently. He’s a good lad but last week he sellotaped loads of marbles to the bottom of my paws so I couldn’t walk and then just rolled about laughing at me with milk shooting out of his nose like some kind of enormous arsehole, so I’m not really willing to chalk him down as an icon until he gets his shit together. Noel gave birth to a littler of Staffordshire Bull Terrier Puppies a couple of months ago. No one knows how the fuck that happened and it’s all very hush hush. I bet he didn’t tell you that did he?

Do you have a celebrity that you absolutely loathe? 
Does Jihadi John count as a celebrity yet? That guy’s a right handful isn’t he? Gee whizz.


You might have noticed that Walkers crisps are doing another one of their 'Do us a flavour' campaigns where they get proles to send in their ideas for crisp flavours which end up being, without exception, fucking horrible. 
Apparently, all you have to do is write to the UK’s favourite jug-eared potato peddler, Gary Lineker, and tell him that you once ate a parsnip that had been near some cheese and they’ll put it into production and give you the chance to win a million quid. 
Anyway, my mate Sexy Chris has decided that he can do a better job and has started his own crisp business (which he’s currently running out of the back of a knackered old Toyota Avensis that’s parked behind Texaco). He’s had a surprising amount of feedback and already put the following choices into production…

“  Imagine a man from Osaka who’s been working night shifts in an oil refinery for so long that he can’t get to sleep with a smokey BBQ finish. Mmmm   “
Ingredients: Batter, gypsum, paprika, spring onions, salt and grey mince
Creator: Kenneth Babb, 43, Solihull 

“  The cosy taste of Sunday morning fried egg mixed with the crushing realisation that your second marriage has gone tits up and Beth’s going to move in with that arsehole who works at Foxtons   “
Ingredients: Egg powder, rennet, mung beans, regret, tears from a crab and Ronseal weather proof decking stain
Creator: Mrs Dorothy Pocket, 68, Milton Keynes

“  Just like grandma used to make. Imagine a jar of delicious pear chutney that’s been used in an occult ritual and become haunted by the soul of a little boy    “
Ingredients: Pear flavour and little boy flavour
Creator: Karl Knawvax, 22, Truro

“  I wanted to re-create that classic, mouth-watering mix of my imaginary friend Richard (a deaf crow) and the dream he once had about a ham sandwich that which could do the Charleston     “
Ingredients: bread, rice, starch, whey protein, iodine, tungsten, vix vapour rub, crispy flavour, gullible trout, plain cheese and celery
Creator: Sexy Chris, 7, Hoxton

“  Piss soaked sawdust mixed with hints of desperation and avian confusion. Like the feeling you get when you walk through the doors at your local ‘Pets At Home’    “
Ingredients: Chicken, piss, wood extract, beer and soy sauce
Creator: Leanne Bismuth-Plunkett, 40, Gaviscon

“  I really wanted to transform that feeling you get when you see an old lady trip over and break her jaw on the wing mirror of a van into a flavour of crisp that I could enjoy at lunchtime   “
Ingredients: Chicken, piss, wood extract, beer and soy sauce
Creator: Gaunt Wez, 38, Leyton Buzzard

“  Trying to capture the essence of Iraq’s infamous torture prison and mixing it with the fresh taste of chive is something that I’ve always wanted to be able to do in the kitchen when cooking dinner for my family   “
Ingredients: Oil, lice, peanuts, a photo of the actor who played Chunk in the Goonies, little bits of string, pepper, capsicum and just regular cat cum
Creator: Eileen Fingerpuppet, 20, Port Isaac 


(Share this post, Like me on Facebook and then invent your own flavour in the comment box below.
I'll pick the best one and you'll win a signed copy of the 'Gus The Fox: Crapbook' seeing as no one is actually buying any of the cunts)


Let’s give it a fucking bash    |
Copyright © The FOXUK PARTY of England and Wales 2014
The text in this document may be reproduced free of charge in any format or medium
provided that it is reproduced accurately and not used in a misleading context.
Enquiries relating to the content of and the copyright in this document should be sent to:

Vile Clive
The FOXUK Party of England and Wales
The bins
behind Kwik Fit
Sort of near the canal
N1 4??


Please contact the FOXUK at the address above if you require a copy
of this manifesto in large print, audio or other format and we’ll be sure not to be fucked seeing to your request.

This manifesto was primarily written by Gus The Fox, assisted by Sexy Chris
and members of the FOXUK policy community, with additional research
by James The Haemophiliac Wood Pigeon. Proofreading by Ian Pin and Martin Clunes
Typesetting by Invisible Richard.

by Gus The Fox, FOXUK Leader












Welcome to Britain, 2015. It’s a fucking shit hole and I know many of you agree. Times have never been so hard for humans and animals alike and in an era where every single party is preaching the same old bollocks, there’s never been a better time to waste your vote on a cartoon fox…with learning difficulties.
With all this talk about Europe and immigration it feels like no one is tackling the real issues.
The shrinking economy has resulted in less waste which, in turn, means that it’s almost pointless to waste time scavenging in bins. The other day my mate Geoff Lester was so hungry that he ate his own hands…which was actually quite funny.
Badgers are no longer safe to walk the streets without the risk of being murdered by the government and there are far too many migratory birds coming over here and stealing our worms. I dream of a Britain where it’s good British…worms…for…good British…birds.

The housing crisis is at an all time low and even though tramps can be quite funny - the other day I saw one pissing into his own face for a bet- they can also be a nuisance. I met a tramp the other day whose trainers smelled so bad that they made my eyes catch fire and  I fell in the canal, much to the amusement of about seven ducks.

The comedian, Russell Brand, tells us not to vote, well I don’t agree. Why waste your vote when it would actually be a lot funnier to vote for me. The sad truth is, I probably wouldn’t do a much worse job than David Cameron and his ridiculous, podgy little, cunt head.

So on May 17th why not say “FOX THE UK!” and make your voice heard. It’s time for change. It’s time to vote ginger. It’s time for FOX UK. 


 should probably start by being completely honest with you. I don’t really know what a politics is. Until recently I thought that it was a type of eel. I once saw an eel wearing sunglasses so I punched him in stomach so hard that his head went all weird and looked like a massive shattered egg, but I suppose that’s irrelevant. To start with I decided to go into politics because I liked the idea of having several houses with moats and the idea of getting up to all sorts of bonkers shenanigans with prostitutes - like all the other politicians seem to do - really appealed to me as well, but after I started looking into it, I realised that maybe I could actually make a difference. Not a very good difference I grant you because I’ve never written a manifesto before and most of it will only be beneficial to animals who eat out of bins. But, when you consider the fact that we’re declining into a terrifying situation whereby the far right - who previously only appealed to fat cunts without necks - are now gaining more and more power, perhaps being a feral animal is no longer a hindrance in the world of politics. After all, nobody seems concerned that Nigel Farage looks like - and possibly is - a trout, so I don’t see why being a fox should really be a fucking problem at this juncture.
Believe it or not, I’ve actually done some research into how to write a manifesto and I’ve realised that almost all of them are fucking boring. So boring that you’d have more fun spending an evening with this crow I know called Dale Tuppence, and he’s so boring that once he talked to my mate Double Denim David for so long about the type of cardboard that Kellogg’s use to make their cereal packets that Dave actually ate his own legs and then had a seizure and now he thinks he can smell colours and sometimes when he sneezes he lays a weird sort of transparent egg that’s full of mince.
Anyway, these manifestos seem to waffle on, repeating the same old thing over and over again whilst intermittently backbiting at their rivals like the tit for tat bullshit usually reserved for washing powder commercials. 
You only have to look at the animal kingdom to realise that you lot have it all wrong. You can’t make rules and legislation that will apply to everyone. Why are we all trying to grow into one giant ‘global village’ or ‘big society’. No one gives a single shit about what’s going on on the other side of the fence. No one wants to help each other out and until we all learn to fend for ourselves the world will undoubtedly remain in a state of dissatisfaction and unrest. 
We can’t help everyone all of the time, you need to realise that despite what you may think, you humans haven’t evolved so much that the laws of the jungle no longer apply. You are territorial, aggressive and selfish and the only way we are ever going to build a successful political system is to do so with that in mind. That isn’t to say that we shouldn’t embrace multicultural ideals and world views. My mate Dennis Bannister is a fox and he married a frog called Brenda Plumb and they were blissfully happy until last year’s cold snap when we went a bit mental and ate her. 
With that mind, the ideas mapped out in the FOXUK policy are simple. Simple policies by a simple fox. That’s what this is all about. Since I’ve embarked on the campaign trail I’ve met a lot of interesting people (mainly wasps and moths) and they have, without exception, been very confused about why, in 2015, they still don’t possess the right to vote, and I for one think it’s about time that that changed. Sure they might be borderline retards who are only interested in finding the nearest bright light, but the entire cast of 'Made in Chelsea’ is eligible to vote and I for one think that’s disgusting.
I’ve met a lot of swans on the campaign trail who are confused as to why issues close to them seem to be ignored by the major political parties. To be fair most of them only care about bobbing about in canals and sucking up algae but last week I saw Piers Morgan doing exactly the same thing and his voice doesn’t seem to go unheard. It’s a fucking disgrace.
A lot of politicians seem to be more concerned keeping their skeletons in the closet when they should be concentrating on doing their jobs and for that reason I have decided to give you full disclosure on my indiscretions in the hope that it will go some way to reinforce your trust in me as both a leader and a fox.
With that in mind, here is a list of some of the bad things I’ve done

  • I murdered my own gran in a fight over a packet of biscuits
  • I once ‘filled a duck up’ with snails (and it died)
  • When my mate Sexy Chris is asleep I sometimes gently whisper the word ‘cunt’ into his ear for several hours on end. Sometime he wakes up in tears.
  • I once threw rice at a dog even though it wasn’t getting married
  • I bummed a chaffinch and it went inside out and you could still see it’s heart beating and everyone was sick/ committed suicide
  • I’ve never payed any tax (mainly because I’m a fox and it’s not required of me)
  • I was once raped by Ant and Dec in a tunnel (but that’s obviously not my fault)
  • I don’t like coots
  • Sometimes I dream of destroying the Earth with a gigantic nuclear device
  • I have a fetish for moss. I sort of fancy moss.
  • I don’t believe in otters
  • Sometimes I fantasise about glueing loads of sausages onto a badger
  • Last year I fingered a cat behind Gregg's The Baker. I’m not sure if that’s any of your business.
…So now you know. I hope these indiscretions don’t deter you and my honesty only goes to strengthen your trust in me and the FOXUK party as a whole. 
(I am trying to deal with some of my issues regarding coots but, to be fair, they are a bunch of filthy fucking racists)

Anyway, it’s your choice

Trust the FOXUK Party and together we can see what happens.

Some will tell you that voting for a fox is a a luxury in times of economic hardship. Wrong! Think about what you’re saying. Voting for a fox is bonkers but if you’re ever going to get out of this mess and create a sustainable and fair economy then I’m afraid you’re going to have to do something really stupid that’s perhaps slightly less drastic than an apocalypse.

Our vision is of a fair society based on compassion to animals, which, in turn might make you re-evaluate how you deal with each other, working with nature rather than against it. I’m talking a step in the direction of vegetarianism rather than treating animals like biological machines. If you saw how many bollocks and eyelids were in the meals you eat every day you wouldn’t eat meat ever again, even for a bet.  
We’re not talking a full scale overhaul, we’re talking about baby steps in the right direction. More meat free options won’t just benefit the world morally but will also benefit the sustainability of the planet’s resources. The amount of fucking rainforest we chop down every day just to compensate for livestock is very rapidly turning our planet into a bovine fart hotbox and in about 100 years, when you’re all naked and living in caves and fighting each other with sticks over the last glass of water you’ll wish you’d acted sooner.

I could go on to talk about the problems with raping the seas and hunting for sport but you’re probably not that bothered. Everyone is only interested in their own agenda. Well I’m happy to address that as well…

Here’s what we’ll do about that
  • As we have no important people in business funding us or twisting our arms on anything at all then we would ACTUALLY tie up all these loopholes that allow rich cunts to avoid paying tax. Very simple. If banks and Google and that paid what they should then we’d have so much money to pay our nurses that they’d all being absolutely minted and then they’d start to get complacent and then they’d start doing an even worse job than they already do and we’d have to re-evaluate the entire system. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Point is, there would actually be too much money and we’d actually have to spend it on stupid shit like getting a gigantic gold statue of Keith Chegwin in the middle of a field in the middle of nowhere in Cumbria and stuff like that. We’d actually have too much money and it would be annoying. We’d be able to start a company that just went around putting fake eyelashes on ducks and it wouldn’t make any difference to the amount of money we have in the National Bank. It would actually be annoying having so much money.
  • Also, and I don’t suppose this is relevant, I’d like to see more famous animals printed on bank notes. The current £5 note has a picture of Elizabeth Fry on it and no one even knows who the fuck she is. What about Bungle from Rainbow? Or maybe LaLa from the Teletubbies. Were they animals? Were they a sort of bear? Who knows. Who the fuck even cares?
  • No benefits for anyone. This probably won’t be a very popular one for the floating voters but I can’t think of a single job that someone can’t do. If your legs are all knackered then sit behind a desk and lick envelopes, if you’ve got mental health problems then why not become an estate agent? Come on Britain, it’s time to knuckle the fuck down.

Oh no! How ever will we get by without being party to the thriving Irn Bru, Deep-fried Mars Bar and haggis industry? Give a fuck mate.


Seems a bit weird that when we foxes get our heads chopped off you stick them in the local pub but when the shoe’s on the other foot everyone starts shitting their pants. Anyway, here’s what we do about things like ISIS…

  • Just chill out a bit. Try not to go there if possible but it’s a fucking shit hole and if any trouble comes our way then we should be very fortunate we live on an island. If the worst comes to the worst we’ll all just go to the coast with some knives and big bits of wood and ward off any imminent danger.
  • When it comes to homeland security we propose to make the laws regarding human rights slightly more lenient. Some of the ideas I’ve got might seem a bit barbaric but if you’re going to act like a twat then you have to be prepared to deal with the consequences. Everyone says torture is unacceptable but I think you’d be surprised what the human body can endure. There’s a man who lives near me on the canal who’s always dressed like a cowboy and he walks around all day drinking White Ace and I once saw him chop his own cock off with a small pair of scissors that came free with a Dora the Explorer Magazine and he was pissing himself throughout. I don’t think chopping a few fingers off is anything to get too worried about.
  • Schools have gone soft. When I was at school my brother Ian called the teacher a fat dickhead and he was killed right there in front of the class. I know foxes and humans can be a bit different but if some little wanker starts mouthing off and acting like they own then place then stick them in borstal for a bit. They’ll soon pipe down when they’re getting bummed every night by the bigger boys.
  • Free Martin Clunes shaped rubbers for all GCSE students. (1% of the country's taxes will be spent on this legalisation.)
  • Abolish OFSTED. I’ve been speaking to teachers around the country and apparently ticking boxes and filling in forms instead of just teaching people is ruining the country. So we’ll just fuck it off. I’ll personally do spot checks on schools every so often to check they haven’t been turned into meth labs or child porn rings and we’ll save loads on lengthy, expensive and pointless OFSTED inspections.
  • Despite what my mate Sexy Chris says, owls will still not be allowed in British schools (unless they happen to live in the ceiling above the gym). Sexy Chris says that owls are wise and should be allowed to go to school so that they can “further their intelligence” but I reckon this is bollocks because I once saw Sexy Chris getting off with a hammer inside Gareth Southgate’s shed also when I asked him which is his favourite book by Charles Dickens he said “A Muppet Christmas Carol” so, No. Owls will not be allowed to join the children of Britain in school. 
  • I suggest that we ban twins because I’m scared of them. It’s weird. Unless anyone has a problem with it then I suggest we have them all killed.
  • Keep it exactly the way it is apart from we’ll pay people more with the money we’ll collect from rich fuckers who don’t pay enough tax. Don’t let the fucking Tories ruin this. It’s too important.
  • We should also have a National Health service for foxes if you ask me. My testicles are are in a terrible state. One of them rolled into the canal last year and got gobbled up by an eel. I’m worried if we don’t do something about my bollocks soon then, as a nation, we might lose them forever.
  • I’ve been speaking to a lot of unemployed leaches recently who have been telling me that their families haven’t been able to find work in the healthcare industry for about 200 years. I say it’s time to give these guys their jobs back. I met a leach called Duncan Furnish who said that he didn’t know what cancer was but he was happy to have a fucking good go at it if only he was given the chance.

  • The police shouldn’t be allowed to have sex with their police horses and police dogs. I don't know if this actually happens and if it’s an issue, but if it does - which a lot of people tell me it doesn’t - then I really want to clamp down on it.
  • Legalise most drugs apart from the really weird ones that make people go fucking bonkers and start eating people. You should only be able to get them from Boots.
  • You know those people in the Guinness Book of World Records who have really long finger nails and the thumb one sort of curls round into a big spiral? Well the police should still be encouraged not to have them because I assume it would get in the way of their day to day business.
  • More own clothes days. (Only for undercover police.)
  • Carry on as is. No one knows why anyone comes to this horrible, rainy little shit hole so let’s not rock the boat.
  • I reckon we should either start a new one based on wheelie bins or just fuck the whole thing off
  • No faith schools. Fairy tales have nothing to do with education
  • After the election religion will only be considered as a mental health issue and will fall under the remit of the NHS

A list of things we’ll also be doing as FOXUK
  • Compulsory tattooing of bats
  • A free carton of Um Bongo for everyone who paints a picture of me on the front of their house
  • More Japanese people working in ‘Laser Quest’ if it still exists, which I’m fairly sure it doesn’t
  • A full ban on fox hunting. Generally try and start killing animals less and less if at all possible.
  • 8 day week. 5 on, 3 off. We’ll sort the details out later
  • More Send all Canada Geese back to Canada. no one wants them here. Every time you try and have a chat with one it bites your fucking head off and starts honking like some sort of mental old car.
  • Spitting in the street will be punishable by death
  • More wasps
  • Less wasps for those who dislike wasps
I just showed the manifesto to Martin Clunes and he said it's fucking rubbish. 
In my defence though Martin Clunes did once shave my belly with a Gillette Mach 3 and then draw a picture of the Snuffleupagus from Sesame Street on there in crayons though so he’s hardy a fucking legend is he?

I’ll sort it out. Put in your thoughts. We can run the country like an actual democracy. Instead of saying things and then not following through with them, we’ll set up an online website where all legislation and laws get voted for each week and then, probably, gradually everything will be fine, unless it makes it worse, in which case we’ll all sit down and have a rethink in a few years. At the end of the day, the worst that can happen is that we are all incredibly unhappy and some of us might die…just like any other term in political leadership.