The Labour Party conference has begun led by a man so in the pocket of Corbyn you’ll be finding lint on his forehead.
Starmer, for years, has perpetrated treasonous acts against the Crown. Acts so heinous that I can’t even write about them here for fear of upsetting some of my older readers.
Starmer has released a essay on “what he stands for” which I assumed was just the Communist National Anthem. Corbyn is the merry piper and Starmer dances to his red jig like a Chinese prostitute trying to impress the king. He is Corbyns man make no mistake.
When you look at Starmer what do you see? I tell you what you don’t see and that’s a godamm war hero. Where was he at Trafalgar? Balaclava? Bosworth? Cowering behind his “manifesto” no doubt.
During my lifetime I have NEVER seen Starmer receive the Victoria Cross. I’ve NEVER seen him pilot a Spitfire and do you know how many times I’ve seen him down the local buying the lads a pint? NOT ONCE
If you ever put your faith in the crimson hand of Labour you might as well grow yourself a moustache, call yourself Stalin and purge your family of dissenters.
Subliminal Submarine
The Foppy French have embarrassed themselves on the world stage yet again. Not content with being the laughing stock of World War Two (Hitlers Return) they’ve now thrown a hissy fit over the new UK/US/AUS defence partnership.
The partnership will be primarily be focused on agitating China but (hopefully) we can use some Navy Seals to storm the migrant rafts floating across the Channel.
France has accused Australia of breaking a deal with them to build nuclear submarines. Has Brexit taught them nothing? Deals don’t mean anything anymore so you can shove your Northern Ireland protocol up your arse as well.
For years the French have deceived us. Claiming that “baguettes are a form of food” or are they smuggled weapons? A sharpened baguette could be driven through the eye of a brave Sainsburys worker at the drop of Marcons beret. Look around the bakery section of your local supermarket and tell me the barrel of baguettes don’t look like a barrel of French swords?
Citing “betrayal” the French have removed thier Ambassadors from Australia and the US. Oh no! Who’ll bring the cheese to the next meeting?
In all seriousness though if France doesn’t want to get involved in a arms race with China then fine. You’ve chosen your side and you’re clearly the enemy. Remember, France, those new nuclear submarines that Australia are buying? They need target practice
Measure Up
Finally bringing back proper measurements to the Great British public is a solid slap in the face to those who doubted the relevance of Brexit.
I and a number of lads never quite got our heads round this “pence and pounds” nonsense that sprung up out of nowhere. So to see this change back to the good old days is a welcome relief.
In this country we used ounces, groats, thrupney bits and pieces of paper with pictures of cats drawn on as currency. Hell I remember when you could pay for a whole month in a caravan in Dorset with 34 jam jars and a good sing song!
We Brits had our quirky differences in measurements for a number of reasons. For example we used to call “miles” “jumps” and we’d say “there’s four jumps to a leap” and of course a “leap” is 3/8s of a bare furlong. The reason we did this was to keep the Japanese submarine commanders (stationed at listening posts across the Channel) confused about our troop movements
By rejecting the authoritarianism of the EU we can finally rejoice in proper British measurements again. I imagine some revellers will be dusting off the bunting for the weekend celebrations!
In all seriousness though we need to move back to a time when things were better. A time when children were scamps and a Bobby could clout a Irishman for looking ar him funny. A time of outdoor toilets and shipbuilding. A time when a day’s graft meant graft.
