Monday, 5 December 2011


Ees zees way to ze bunker, Frau Lardarse,  allez vite, ze peasants,
ils sont revolting, encore, just like ze last time.

Eet ees, mes amis, 'ow you say ze dawn of ze sousand day Reich. La belle France avec le Deutschland uber alles, combining in ze grande androgynous mother et fatherland in order zat moi, Nicholas, ze dwarf pimp and Angular, ze - in ze words of ze former spic president - unfuckable lardarse hausfrau - can stay in power for anuzzer couple of years or three.

unelected prime minister returns triumphant  from meeting with Herr Hitler, sorry Frau Merkel.

In London, the unelected prime minister of England, Mr CallHimDaveChamberlain alighted from an aircraft with  a piece of soiled toiletpaper in his pocket.

Now look, I have here, in my hand, a piece of soiled toilet paper which bears the skidmarks of M'sieu Sarkozy, Frau Lardarse and myself.  And if you study it closely, as I have, you can see, if you squint a bit - rather like looking at the Coalition of the Unelected - if you look closely and squint  you can see that all the brown and yellow bits - that's me and M'sieu Sarkozy's poos - and the green bits - that's Frau Merkel's sauerkrauty shit - all spell out the phrase Shit In Our Time.  And that's just what you're gonna get.

As President Churchill said, we will fight you in the schools and in the hospitals, we will fight you in the town halls and on the 'buses and in the trains;  we will fight you in the care homes and kindergartens, we will never surrender and if the Coalition of the Unspeakable should last two whole years, men will say, This was Their Finest Hour.  And another thing, an iron curtain is coming down around England, everywhere outside Chipping Norton and the City of London is being cordoned-off;  the lights are going off all over England, or they will be if Mr Huhne has his way. Something he's done rather too much of with the ladies, in my opinion, if you can call them ladies; dogs, we'd call them, in the Cotswolds.


mongoose said...

It is madness of the purest kind. We live in a mad, strange, gilded end-time of hypocrisy and stupidity. The only thing we can take away from here is that all the tokens they are spending are just that. When the wind blows upon the New Year, it will all be over and we will be able to sit down and count what real wealth is left to us. Beneath the waves it will go. The name will still be here, of course, but it will be a massively weakened Reichsmark by another name.

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call me ishmael said...
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call me ishmael said...
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mongoose said...

Crikey! That went well.