Friday 1 July 2016

GNASHER OVER BRUSSELS.




 

See youse? Ah'm come her tae bring youse greetings frae m'ain  Euro country an' offer tae come here and be, like with youse. Aye, 'ntae rubbish yon Maggie Thatcher, cuz that's whit we do, like,  back in m'ain country, is rubbish yon bad bastid. The oil?  The economy. No way Jose, we dinnae confuse the sovereign will a the Scoattish people wi' talk like that. Thatcher, that's whit Ah mean.
Aye, ever since  ah wis a wee teenage lassie, in m'bedroom, I've hated yon English bitch. Like youse do....

Madame le Gnasher, nous sommes  tres apologetique, mais vous n'avez pas le nation propre, vous etses dans l'administration locale, vous etes seulement le region du Scoland, n'est ce pas?

Aye, Scotland, smart, successful and equal tae all a youse foreigners.....

  Oui, d'accord, 
mais vous n'etes pas le antion propre, vous etes
 Ecosse, le meilleure partie de l'Angleterre.



 



18 comments:

Anonymous said...

She belongs behind a check-in desk, charging for overwieght baggage. It would suit both her temperament and abilities.
-richard

mongoose said...

Dear me. Scotland has tried all that cosying up to Greater France - and to no purpose so far. Have they not learned yet?

call me ishmael said...

Interestingly, the Englsh 'papers report Sturgeon's Progress largely as it was, while in Scotland the press, all of it now pro-SNP to a greater or lesser degree, is much more optimistic, emphasising her UglyBastardness's own mantra that this is early days, and she wis doin' her joooty tae the Scoattish people. Ordinary people, as I said, are embarrassed. From her point of view, politics is an endless rebellion against imagined slights, whilst, conveniently, the failures and the iomproprieties of her administration go unchecked; I wonder how long that can continue.

We did say, all along, that the nature of the EuroBeast is that one of however many member states can veto anything, does this charmless chimp really think she can seduce Spain into advancing the Basque cause? Better go and have a lie-down with Hamza, in the dark, and pray to Allah for guidance.

Most dangerous for the ghastly wee shrew is the increasingly possibilty of Mr Trump becoming POTUS. What will she do them, should he swat Scotland like a fly, he need only place a twenty-dollar tarrif on Scotch whisky, salmon and shortbread, to see Gnasher's angry wee head spiked on the Royal Mile by starving Scottish businesspersons. Way to go, Uncle Sam.

walter said...

Mr Ishmael, Is gnashers husband really 66, born in england aswell! Was it mussolini who said Patriots have children, I dont think the barren coo will be having children soon!

SG said...

I also feel that the wee Gnasher's 'talents' lie elsewhere. For example, she's a deadringer for the young Janette Tough should they ever decide to make 'Krankies: The Movie'. There seems to be an apetite for that sort of thing just now... Trump as POTUS - Yes! Bring him on!

Mike said...

We have our own elections Down Here today, but you would be forgiven for not noticing. Voting is compulsory for one of the useless bastards. But our electoral cycle is only 3 years - thus limiting what the maggots can do to us. The only consoling factor is that relatively speaking the Lucky Country has no problems, and it would take real determination to fuck things up - but they do try.

The view here on what is happening down your way was summed up by a Sydney Morning Herald headline this week - "the Brits have found their balls".

Occasionally, to rile the Kiwis, someone suggests that Aus and NZ have a common currency. You would think it had been suggested that we throw their newborn on the barbie, judging by the reaction.

Mr I, thanks for the tip on the geology series, I will try to find. It the sort of thing I find very interesting. Judging by the number of chinks buying into the Sydney property market, they are already anticipating that our 2 tectonic plates will collide.

call me ishmael said...

Up the road, mr walter.

Bungalow Bill said...

What's wrong with this woman and with most of them is that she has no sense of humour, no whit of ironic awareness. She is, therefore, unfit to understand anything that matters of our tragicomedy. So too with Gove (though he is a psychopathic mimic) and May and any, really, you may care to mention. Shitheads like Johnson and Fatty Clarke are hailed as witty mavericks for Christ's sake.

With few exceptions they have been cunts immemorially, our politicians, but there has grown up over the last 30 years or so a new breed of the Desouled and they have shuffled into power. They are zombies and they cannot bear that any should be unlike them.

In proper news, and acknowledging your suspicion of bards, Geoffrey Hill died today. He was a fine and fiercely difficult one with some great stuff: “particular grace, / individual love, decency, endurance, / are traceable across the faults”; and “I say it is not faithless / to stand without faith, keeping open / vigil at the site.” A couple of extracts from his poetry which are quoted in an interview he gave a couple of years ago, but they seem especially right for this time. Some consolation.

Bungalow Bill said...

With apologies to his ghost, he died yesterday.

call me ishmael said...

Ah, sorry. I don't know him but will have a look. It is not the work from which I recoil but the self-titling; we are all poets, aren't we, my best advice to people in grief is to say, Find the poetry in it; find some words, make some phrase, conjure some rhyme, to make it clear to you what has happened and enable you, henceforth, to express it to others; this is the way the world goes ropund, this is scripture, in the beginning was the word.

I bridle, therefore, when people say, I am a Poet, as though it was a trade and not a universal yearning.

I hope that these current manouvres of Satan's Regiment are illustrative to those previously unaware - it is not only the economics which are Zombie.

I know, from reading the cyber toilet wall that de-souled is a term for which many, too long ragged trousred philanthropists, now utterly lost for words, are reaching.

Woman on a Raft said...

History note:

Before the vote last week I was being told that this would instantly lead to the break up of the United Kingdom. I was surprised Brenda looked quite as happy as she did.

Then it turns out that it could always have been answered before the referendum: would the EU recognize Scotland instantly? No, because of Basque separatists etc.

Odd how that did not emerge before the vote.

Bungalow Bill said...

Agreed, Mr I, poetry is all around. I admired him not, particularly, for his works but for his cussedness and insistence upon the value of difficulty. In our infantilised age he was an adult intelligence.

mongoose said...

It is all bollocks, I am afraid. The real objective of the SNP was always DevoMax and they have forgotten that. A border, UK trade tariffs the unhelpful oil price, and no shiny submarines and the country would be beggared back to the stone age. Not to mention having to find food and water for all those swinish Scottish politicians who infest Westminster with their sour, Presbyterian know-it-all joylessness.

I wonder too if the Trumpster will use his wall-building expertise to upgrade Hadrian's pitiful effort. That would find a few jobs for the newly destitute of Edinburgh New Town.

Caratacus said...

Le Situation - Dans Le EU

Gnasher (for it is she): Je desire de join le EU.
M. Junker: Ah - vous etes dans le right place et nulle mistake, mais ...
Gnasher: Spot orn, merveilleux, Ou puis-je m'signez-up?
M.Junker: ... MAIS, M A I S - vous n'avez pas un country actuallement ..
Gnasher: C'est un triviality. Je suis like un chien on heat ici, gi'e us a pen Jimmie fer creyseek
M. Junker: Mme Gnasher, unhand moi. Je n'ai pas de testicules down there ...

call me ishmael said...

It has been emergibg here, mrs woar, repeatedly, over some years. As for Brenda, her tine of dying will intiiate such feasting in MediaMinster that all its sins will be overlooked in a tawdry tumult if flash mourning bleak enough to eclipse the Sun and will continue in frenzied succession speculation, the NewPeople demaning that Age give way to Stupidity. I caught a glimpse of Air Vice Marshal Gormless, last night eulogising the Somme dead, cracking-on like he was Kenny Branagh, hamming away at Henry the Fifth. I nearly threw-up, there was him, his bint, Princess Waitress and his tosspot brother, inspiring the nation by their evident nobility and self-sacrifice; it was like that show, the Windsors, which mr sg mentiones, it was Ruritanian. Christ, I can't wait for King Brian and Queen FagAsh Lil, such fun we'll have.

call me ishmael said...

Yes, his obituarists concurred, mr bungalow bill, and the toilet wall was unaccustomedly erudite. I read some of his lines and they did indeed have the wisdom and nobility of resigned exasperation.

call me ishmael said...

It's serving you well, mr mongoose, this contretemops; seldom known you deliver such sparkling, sustained, take-no-prisoners invective. Good for the heart, they say, rage, at least i fucking hope so.

we were correct in anticipating Brexit and may yet be so with Trump. Trouble is, Sanders has backed Clinton, unable to see that left is actually right, right actually left. It may not matter, the FBI may, just possibly, yet indict Hills and there may be enough invisible, angry Americans to carry him over the line; which is exxactly what we need.

call me ishmael said...

Lovely, lolled out-loud, king caratacus. Fancy being rebuffed by Frankie Holland, and her the Belle of the Old Men's Ball.