Craig "Shaggy" Thomson

The on-going brouhaha involving Labor MP, Craig Thomson, his credit cards and his not-so-cheap hookers reminds me of Shaggy, the one-time musician rapper person, who rose to fame on the back of hits like It Wasn't Me, a charming ditty about randy musicians and loose groupies.  So profound, those rappers.

Douchebag Thomson told Federal Parliament last week that he would be making a full statement about the allegations of impropriety that have been levelled at him by his former employer, the Health Services Union (HSU), in the coming weeks, after the Opposition called him scankypants and other parliamentary insults of equal vigour.  In the red-light corner is Thomson and his trashy hoes, and in the blue corner is everyone else.

I tell you, this explanation better be good.  But whatever he professes to be the truth about his seedy past, he has already told us that "it wasn't me".  Oh, well that clears up everything then.  I give the guy some credit for lying in the face of absurdity.  Personally I think Thomson is nowhere near as creepy as Mr Skankypants himself, Peter Slipper, but you say potato, I say potahto.

The allegations against Thomson include using his union credit cards for facilitating acts of prostitution - which sounds far less sleazy than it actually is, using the cards for some type of ponzi scheme and for funding his own election campaign.

Caught you dialling the hookers (It wasn't me)
Through your work credit card (It wasn't me)
And your other work credit card (It wasn't me)

I can't decide if people like Thomson should never be allowed to have a Mastercard, or if they should be given 500 of the darn things and let them make their own skanky king-size futons and be made to lie in them. I blame the banks. Clearly Thomson is a victim of their bullying tactics.  It's so blindingly obvious that this is the problem.

Those little pieces of plastic ruin lives, particularly if you are a low-life, union head moron, or anyone and everyone who thinks it's a good idea to whinge to Today Tonight about personal credit debt and other things that are their own stupid fault.

Who knows, maybe there is an entirely acceptable explanation for why Thomson was caught red-handed with his hand in the skanky jar.  Perhaps his wife works at the brothel and he was just calling her at the office to ask if he should pick up some pizza, a couple of tarts and a few STDs on the way home.  I mean, we don't know.  Stay classy Craig.