Monday 16 November 2015

POUNDLAND IN MOURNING





Mr Sid Farage, chief executive of Poundland, the no-frills, bargain basement, recycled political slogans company, was said today to be deeply and profoundly shiocked and saddened by the death of the company's founder and its most iconic, well, icon


As well as bringing cheap, affordable politics to the working man, he was a great patriot, probably the greatest living Englishman,  
 

after myself, that is. 

 
The greatest dead living Englishman, is what I meant to say.  
Him, not me, I'm still very much alive and kicking and drawing my expenses.

No, no, I learned everything I know about rabble-rousing from Sir Alf and I and my party owe him a debt we can never repay,
 rather like the defecit. 
Although, to be honest,  when I am prime minister, I shall make sure that the chancellor isn't a helpless and hopeless,  braying, public school junky off his head at the despatch batch,  on cocaine and fuck knows what else.  
Nothing wrong with public schools, mind, went to one m'self, 'swhere I learned my man of the people routine.  
But no, lemme be Frank with you, as the one ABCDLGBT pervert said to the other.  Alf Garnett was our spiritual founder and although many have decried him as an ironist, lampooning, to satirical purpose,  the views and beliefs of ordinary Englishmen, let me assure them that, on the contrary, SirAlf was a dedicated armchair warrior, a fine patriotic  racist Englishmen and a misogynist through and through. Like our great company, Poundland, he was one of a dying breed and we shall not look on his like again.  Not until the next UKIP conference.

The Frogs? 
What about the Frogs?
 
 Oh, yes, the slaughter amongst our Euro-cousins.


Well, they should look on the bright side, shouldn't they;
 I mean it wasn't as bad as Agincourt, was it?

15 comments:

Alphons said...

He may not believe all he says, he may not understand all that he is saying, but some of what he says is to be applauded.
(Which is probably a first for a UK politician)

call me ishmael said...

Hmmm, m alphons, it IS easy and natural to applaud the assertion of the obvious, even by one who seems incapable of finding his way into the Great Legislature of Compromise, an encore falters, however, confronted by the principled elasticity of his resignation, the questionability of his alliances in Strasbourg, the venality of his associates and the unwholesomeness of his character, all of which, sadly, are not a first among career-politician hypocrite thieves and degenerates.

alphons said...

What I think you mean is what I have claimed ever since I got thrown out of the young conservatives in about 1949, and that is that all politicians local,national and international, regardless of colour, creed, or size of head, are nothing but carpet bagging self centred scroungers with the morals of a bucket of air.

mongoose said...

As you imply, Mr I, but may not have looked into, some of Fag-Ash Nige's fellow euro-travellers are dark bastards indeed. We do not need much extra jingoistic BS in the mix for the whole thing to get properly ugly.

call me ishmael said...

He claims, of course, that they were mere Nazi-companions of convenience, chosen merely to help generate income which UKIP can spend in defence of Britain's interests. And on his mistresses.

I hear, incidentally, mr mongoose, that in your adopted city of Edinburgh anti-refugee demonstrations have taken place. The Tribesmen's nationalist genie, I guess, unbottled. There will be worse.

call me ishmael said...

Yes, m alphons, you may recall I said the same about Brother Corbyn, who, despite his rebel's reputation, has never really rocked his career boat, unlike, fir instance, Mr Nellist, excommunicated by the thieving ponce, Kinnock.

call me ishmael said...

.......or even Sheikh bin Galloway, expelled by NewLabour.

Mike said...

I see the PBC are releasing all the non-PC sitcoms - only via t'internet as they don't want to frighten the horses on terrestrial TeeVee.

Till Death Do Us Part will be my first download. We watched it as a family when I was a kid, and all had a good laugh.

Oldrightie said...

Ishmael, I 'm very fond of your work. However, Farage is our only hope. His vilification bigs up the shit we have suffered for decades. It demeans you. Somebody needs to stick their neck out. As you so admirably do. Give Nige a chance. Then have a go on his record in power.

Alphons said...

Mr Ishmael.".... Mr Nellist, excommunicated by the thieving ponce, Kinnock."

I believe Kinnock was so brutal and mean that he never used an anaesthetic for this procedure.

call me ishmael said...

Thank you, and I will grant you, mr oldrightie, that, like Corbyn, Farage widens a hitherto narrow debate and enthuses many otherwise disillusioned. It is not, however, my purpose to endorse any overpaid, blustering, career democrat, least of all one as shamelessly, wantonly, vain, egotistical and dishonest as Sid Farage. I have said, previously, that I do not subscribe to the dictum that my enemy's enemy is my friend; they are all my enemies.

Events, anyway, may steal UKIP lessening thunder, vis a vis EuroState. I would expect current circumstances to play very well for the Outers, among whom Farage is strangely silent.

Had he stuck by his resignation, even for a while, then I and doubtless others might have reappraised him. Pride, eh?

call me ishmael said...

Excommunication, I understand, m alphons, only hurts in Eternity.

call me ishmael said...

I tried to recall it, mr mike, but not very hard. I saw Speight interviewed, decades later, and considered him a prat. A look at his other writing credits reveals a mountain of trash, Frankie Howard and Dickie Valentine being probably the best of a bad bunch.

I guess TDDOP was at least novel, outrageous and tragic, a bit like Rab C Nesbitt but I expect I would find it as depressing as Steptoe and Son. Or Top Gear.

Mike said...

Ahhhhh!! Rab C. Like fine wine. If only I could understand all the dialog.

PS you should see the shit that gets served up down here in the name of comedy. Mostly rejected alternatives from the UK, and some obnoxious Oirish git call Jimoin (?) - Hopefully you have never come across the arsehole.

call me ishmael said...

I could barely understand a word he said, but I knew exactly what he meant. Written by an Englishman, Rab C. I suppose you could trace him back to Alf Garnett, a ranting husband, although Rab's enemies are the same as ours, whereas Alf was pure Ruritanian.