Friday, 4 November 2011

The Eleventh Hour of the Eleventh Day

Its one week before armistice day, 2011.  Shortly, the calender will read the hours 11:  Has anything changed?  Europe is still a mess, although this time its not mud.  The French are still run by a short-arsed little bastard and they're still enthralled by the Germans, whose leader is calling the shots and ordering other nations how to behave.

No doubt she's had her moustache waxed off, unlike the last strutting gobshite.

Next Sunday we'll stand in our public places and remember those who fought to prevent this.  All will be silent except for the rantings of the Middle-Eastern loons who worship the paedophile.  At least I'll be there to punch the fuck out of any rancid beards this year.

Our leaders, from the Queen down, should hang their heads in shame, forego Sunday lunch and sort this fucking mess out.  We do not need to be involved this time.  If the fuckwits from across the channel want to play hardball, let them get on with it - amongst themselves.

I sit here amongst the descendants of true British patriots and I cringe.  I am ashamed of our nation.  I cannot even begin to explain to these decent people what the fuck is going on.  There are people here who think a war is coming and they don't want to be part of it this time.  Who can blame them?

I thought the Greeks were about to stand on their own two feet and tell the EU to go fuck itself.  Instead, like all politicians, they collapsed when push came to shove.  So whats next?  Over to you wankers.  For Gods sake, vote UKIP.

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