Wednesday 22 July 2015

STREETS OF LONDON.



The Filth-O-Graph, no longer having any writers, these days runs lots of pictures of cars and there is a feature, today, showing all manner  of vulgar, expensive vehicles,
 
 parked all over Knightsbridge and Kensington with parking tickets on them; 
the owners are mainly Saudi filth,
 summer holidaying in London, 

home of child vice and money laundering. 
 
Sheikh bin LadyFlogger, it seems, and his stone-age manners, is annoying those few remaining Brits who live in the area, the ones who recently voted Albino.

Vote for me,
and I'll give you a good seeing-to.

Boris, of course, is their part-time mayor, part-time MP and full-time Filth-O-Graph columnist and cannot be expected to concern himself with the Metropolis being overrun by Arab criminals driving shockingly gaudy Rolls Royces. 
These parking tickets, however, are in the amount of a hundred and thirty pounds  - a  sum which, to the funders of 9/11, of the Bush family, of al Quaida, of  the Jonathan  Aitken Spanking Company, of British Aerospace, of Queen  Brenda's Nags and now of the ISIL HeadChopping Brigade, is utterly meaningless.

Boris should approach  these ghastly raghead louts and say, 

Now, look here,  Prince bin BumFuck, and you other chaps, this is a rum do, this  jolly old parking caper, what? Not really playing the White Man, is it, old bean? How would it be if we raised the parking ticket price, just for Saudi  Royalty, like yourselves, to ten million pounds? Do you think that would make you lot act like civilised chappies? And failure to pay, on the proverbial spot, as it were, in readies,  would mean a thousand lashes, on St Stephen's Green, broadcast live, on good old Telegraph subscription TeeVee. 

It's what you do at home, to bloggers and such like, you filthy fucking  barbarians.
 
A Saudi blogger-flogging.

 You could always, of course, stay in your own sandy shithole  kingdom, buggering each others nephews and watching Top  Gear, with old Clarkson and his creepy bumboys, or flying-in Ronnie O'Sullivan and some snooker scruffs to play exhibition matches for you. And that would be the best place for you, racing your pink Ferraris round a heap of camel dung, like the wealthy savages you are.
 Oh and while you're at it, old chap, be a good fellow and  take some of those Russian gangster chaps with you. London for the, er... umm...Londonish, that's my new motto, for when I'm prime minister.

38 comments:

yardarm said...

The British Establishment grovel, fawn and arselick the Saudis more than anyone else; never mind the EU or the Yanks. Remember recently King Head Chopper Mustapha Head Chop kicked the bucket and the flags over Downing Street and the Palace were lowered. Servile bastards.

SG said...

Bloody hell Mr I! What are you on? I can't keep up! Watch out for someone stepping out and flinging a cup of urine at you, as happened to poor Mr Froome the other day... Also, I'm feeling a little overtaken by the Peloton after the last comment thread... Its soup tonight, by the way, possibly followed by burgers and street signs...oh, and cakes...

call me ishmael said...

Yep, it's the true British monarchy, the House of Saud, mr yardarm.

call me ishmael said...

Just my way of taking things easy, mr sg, I have been over-busy, with friends and other phantoms.

SG said...

Ah! Natural causes then. I think you get to hang on to the yellow jersey and enter the next stage... I felt the same about that flag lowering business, by the way, may as well hoisted an ISIS flag...

DtP said...

I guess the Saudis are exercising a genuine Nazi state - everyone else being untermensch in their land. I think I read somewhere that they give out shed loads of cash to their true race a la tax credit type thing and fuck everyone else. Ah, what's mild hypocrisy coupled with no principles - bizness is bizness what what?

Bungalow Bill said...

Vile nation, a technologised medieval House of Beasts. They've been diligently exporting death and mayhem for years and very successful it has been too, a perfect carousel of oil, blood and money. What we need are boots on the ground and some cleansing drone attacks. Surely only a matter of time before we wake up to this existential threat?

call me ishmael said...

Easy, Winston.

I heard that every ShitBorn Saudi male was given twenty five grand on his 21st, mr dick, but that was a long time ago, wouldn't buy him a blowjob from the Bukkake Chancellor, these days, much less a Bugatti Veyron.

call me ishmael said...

It is right, though, they have different laws for us, in their filthy country, we should have different laws for them; a hundred quid for a parking ticket, that's only a trip round the block in petrol costs in a Bugatti, how they must laugh at us.

DtP said...

Bukkake Chancellor it is then. They call him the Submarine Chancellor because he only pops up occasionally but maybe it's because once in a while he's got to stop pleasuring himself over re-routed Dignitas clients in his wank dungeon. Bukkake Chancellor is ace satire, cheers chaps.

DtP said...

I assume Guido's been fingering Keith Vaz?

call me ishmael said...

mr verge's coinage, the Bukkake Chancellor, tell your friends. Is Fatty von Fawkes suggesting our, in his own words, greatest living Asian, is a beast? As well as a crook? I know he defended Janner but is there more?

Doug Shoulders said...

It’s a miserable existence is it not? All that cash and nothing left to buy.
Imagine never having worked. And associating only with those of the same ilk.
Watching old top gear reruns
They must be depressed. Is that not what rich folk do when they’re depressed? Buy shite.
Wasn’t the Saudi Royal family elected by western power brokers while they were discovering oil?
We’ve only our political elite to blame.
Blogger flogging…Emperor Wang could take a lesson in cruelty there…

call me ishmael said...

Like most, mr doug shoulders, I flinch from ISIL, recoil in horror, but if they set fire to the house of Saud, decorated its parapets with severed heads, my heart would not be troubled. D'you see the bruises on that guy's back, and they're still beating him? We hanged people for doing shit like that seventy years ago, now Brenda cooks them sheeps eyeball banquets at Buckingham Palace. Brings out my inner Israeli, does Saudi Arabia. Tony'n'Imelda got an office there, have they?

Doug Shoulders said...

It would not surprise me if Tony'n'Imelda have a stipend there to advise despot best practice.
Theirs is a proxy rule is it not? They’ve got the oil alright but it’s ‘merica that tells ‘em what to do.
They’re allowed to flog their citizens though. Can’t be all that bad.

call me ishmael said...

My understanding was slightly different, inasmuch as they are believed to have always owned outright the Bush family, starting with George HW and that both the Bush PROTUSes, and presumably Jeb, if he makes it, worked directly for the Sauds. Dunno about Spunky Bill and Obama, although both have remained close allies with Saudi Arabia.

Doug Shoulders said...

I don’t see it that way. They may own the Bush family, but that would only indicate the bush family are not the power that people think they are. If indeed they are owned.
Are they not simply clients of the Bush family, and so would expect the attendant genuflecting.

henry said...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5CLFLffZA7Q mad saudis ican imagine mr ish doing this when young, sorry for posting link

call me ishmael said...

Question of emphasis, I suppose, mr doug shoulders, I was referring to Craig Unger's book, House of Bush, House of Saud and, if memory serves, Kitty Kelly's, The Family.

yardarm said...

House of Saud, House of Bush states that a lot of Saudis, including members of the Bin Laden family were allowed to fly out of the States in the days immediately after 9/11 when all other civilian flights were grounded. None were questioned. The only authority who could have ordered that was Dubya Retard Bush. The most likely explanation are the US/Saudi and Saud/Bush financial relationships, which mean basically Dubya took a bribe to cover up Saudi involvement. War on Terror ? What a laugh when the Commander in Chief takes money from the other side. Guantanamo ought to be kept open for him alone, its last prisoner, like Hess in Spandau.

call me ishmael said...

And thus, by proxy, thanks to the House of Reptiles, we all worked for the Sauds, as Bubya and Blair occupied Iraq, rather than Ryhad, is it Rhyad, in retaliation for 9/11. Letting them vulgarise London, after everything they've done for us, well, it seems churlish to complain. I'd put Big Al Campbell and a few others in Gitmo, with Dubya.

yardarm said...

Corbyn could win an election just by promising to arraign JugEarsWarCriminal, Straw, Alky Al, Hoon, Scarlet, Dearlove and a few other arseholes as war criminals, or rather impeach them for misconduct in public office. Hopefully their defence fees alone would bankrupt the bastards.

call me ishmael said...

Just coming to that, mr yardarm.....

call me ishmael said...

Sorry, I was just coming to that. Instead, I had to go to the ospickal, just then. It's like being a lifer on license, being a heart patient, you have to watch your step closely and you can get recalled at any moment. I had to go because of a frightful pain in my left chest and my upper left arm and a scorching headache, symptoms of a heart attack. They kept me overnight, did all the tests and concluded that it was radiated pain from my neck surgery. I had suffered this for a few days,fairly sure it wasn't a heart attack but the longer it lasted and the more I googled the less certain I became. What I did learn from this visit is that if it is sore to touch it is unlikely to be heart related. Harris came and visited through the window, enraged that he couldn't get in, it was worrh it, just to see his gery human indignation.

Bungalow Bill said...

That sounds unsettling Mr I. But unsettling is now what we must accept I suppose. In my usual cheery way, I recommend, if you do not already know him, Josquin des Prez (stumbled across him on Youtube) De Clamavi ad Te and I have also been listening to Tallis' Lamentations of Jeremiah. Best listened to with something mellowing but wonderful in any event. Makes the nonsense and horror fade away I find, at least for a time.

tdg said...

London is no longer in England. Well, at least not if one's geography is not retardedly geological. I do know a few English people here, but it is only because they stand out so sharply, with their alien customs and strangely natural command of the language.

SG said...

Sorry to hear of your trials Mr I. Still you were wise to check it out - not something to leave to chance. Sounds lke they are able to check you out locally, given presence of Harris, so that is something at least - presumably treatment requires a trip overseas to North Britain? I look forward to your next post, once you are recovered of course. There are quite a number of issues out there that would benefit from your perspective e.g. Mr Tiny Speaker seems to be in a spot of bother just now...

mongoose said...

While you were off and away, St Jeremy seems to have severely rattled the buggers. One prat was even sent out to rattle the soft-on-paedo chains. They are out for him now and 40-odd days and nights is a long time.

I hope that that doggy window was an external one rather than a corridor one or Mrs Fish will have you in chains. I am glad to see, Sir, that you seem to have returned at least as well as you left. That is progress enough these days.

mongoose said...

You looking like a saint btw.

call me ishmael said...

That is exactly , more or less, how I felt, mr tdg, the last time I was there. I bitterly resent our few months, here, of gawping tourists, mostly only here for a day, on some ghastly, top-heavy cruise liner, doomed to founder in the first rough sea, praise God, taking all aboard to Davy Joneses locker, clicking their Nikon cameras, all the way down; God only knows how native Londoners must feel. I have only
ever been tourist, myself, in London, seeing the sights or a concert and have never been to places like Tower Hamlets but I recall thinking that Picadilly Circus must be the busiest, most cosmopolitan and frightening place on Earth; pressures like that, no wonder your neighbours leap from their windows.

call me ishmael said...

Maybe it was watching the Proms, mr bungalow bill. routed my thoughts to mortality and its avoidance, mainly Beethoven's third piano concerto but also, surprisingly for me, Schoenberg and Stravinsky, nothing to rave about, no. great, empty loneliness and a bit of an Invitation to Obsession, unspeakable, twittering BBC presenters and a barmy pianist, drooling and dribbling their passion, their virtuosity and expertise, actually, come to think of it, no business like showbusiness; made me think they should all get a proper job.

I felt all along that there was nothing really wrong but so specialised and separated from ourselves are we become that I needed my intuition - which has brought me this far - to be confirmed by a professional and his machines.

I will follow your recommendations, one of which I love already, from its title, what could disappoint about the Lamentations of Jeremiah?


call me ishmael said...

He is a one-man Tsunami of Shame, isn't he, Mr Jeremy, washing them all away in a tide of guilt and embarrasment, such a joy, to see them all squeaking and bleating. Dunno if you saw Pissed-Up Pete Oborne the other Newsnight, Liz Kendall, he said, a fucking jumped-up fucking nobody, all of them, they're all fucking nobodies, Burnham? Who the fuck is he? Nobody. Labour and Conservative? Don't make me laugh, they're exactly the same, exactly the same policies. It was a rare enjoyment. mr mongoose, worth finding, Friday Newsnight.

call me ishmael said...

Mr Tiny Speaker, mr sg, he just gets bigger, everyday, in my estimation. Harris is very much a law unto himself and Woe betide any mere health professional who scolded him. Yes, local, fifteen minutes drive away and I was leapt upon, the first and only customer of the night, as different from mainland A&E as it is possible to be. Just ECGs and blood tests and x-rays, one day there'll be an App, as I belive we now call an application, for all that stuff.

tdg said...

It is natural to blame the aliens, even if it is the natives who let them in, presuming they would all self-mould into passable simulacra of Englishmen, as many of us did in the past. But the real failure is the collapse of Englishness as a distinction: the features that marked your kind out from the rest of the world are no longer perceived, let alone valued.

call me ishmael said...

Yes, I never blame the incomer per se; who wouldn't prefer being here, where you can turn-on a tap and clean water comes out, to being in South Asia? What we call globalisation, however, and the EU have almost overnight wrought a new population, faster than and unlike anything seen before. There has always been trade but it has been done by traders, there have always been refugees and there has always been immigration but such numbers as these and the repulsive nature of the Sultans of Bling I here excoriate, these are different.

I had a Brtummie here, last week, he didn't give a fuck for Michael Portillo platitudinising for the telly about Birmingham's rich, Balti-House culture which has so enriched us all, did I tell you I was half-Spanish, half-American and half-Scottish? All Sam cared about was that Rumanians went through his bins and kept trying to wash his windscreen, on the way to work.

This is a population in fear of being swamped and there are no historicasl equivalents from which to draw comfort.

I don't know,therefore, mr tdg, if collapse of Englishness is the right coinage; seems like wanton destruction, to me.

Bungalow Bill said...

A last recommendation since you mention more modern classical music. There is a wonderful film called Benjamin Britten Three Cello Suites by Paul Joyce featuring the wonderful cellist, Jamie Walton, at Blythburgh church - again on Youtube. It's more than an hour but i find it very moving and the playing is stupendous. The end of the final suite and the fragment following are deeply affecting, at least I find them so. Other people's taste is like their holiday photos but it's worth a look.

call me ishmael said...

I may have seen that, there has ben a fair bit about Britten and Pears, although having to learn parts of St Nicholas in the school choir probably put me off him for life. I will have a look, I enjoyed the Tallis, this morning.

call me ishmael said...

They are truly crazy bastards, mr henry, those Saudis.