Brussels – Wind and Piss
Are There so Few Problems in the World...
...that idiots have to keep inventing more? The latest argument is about people competing in sport. It goes something like – can a man who thinks he’s a woman run faster than a woman who thinks she’s a man. The whole problem could be solved by having three classes in every event, Bio Male, Bio Female and Others. That should sort the men from the boys... or is that another problem?
Snowflakes? This is a blizzard…
How come 66 million people can’t get rid of one bloody minded woman overnight?
So Who’s Going to Do It?The Brits won’t. The Irish daren’t. And the EU doesn’t have a standing army that can impose a hard border on the island of Ireland.
Tusky, you little devil, you’re already seeing the special place in hell. It’s the undemocratic unelected-commission ridden, recession-plagued EU.
Q: What did...
Q: What did the moon say to the dog?A: You can’t be Sirius.
Is someone who says they are a million per cent certain about something a reliable witness?
Tony Blair was the cause of Brexit. Now he has the audacity to fight against it. His government had an ulterior motive when they threw our borders open to mass immigration. They boasted that they would “Rub the Rights nose in diversity.”
It was that sudden uncontrolled surge of immigrants that altered the lives of ordinary working class people beyond recognition. The people were not consulted and they certainly didn’t vote for it. By voting for Brexit they hoped to bring the problem under control.
It was Blair’s socialist government that rubbed the nose of the workers in sudden overwhelming change. Now he and his cronies would deny them the right to tackle the problem. Some democracy. Some socialism.
Bring in the Brexit Party.
Have an election.
Clear out the clowns.
And the Dominos Tumbled...
Dominic Grieve and his cronies tabled an amendment to force the PM to bring on Plan B in 3 days if Plan A was kicked out. They thought the task was impossible. It was. So she gave them Plan A again. “Plan A is Plan B,” she said, “touché.”
In WETHERSPOONNEWS Tim urges us to buy British. I’m with him all the way on that. Further on in the mag he advertises his pizzas and boasts that he uses Italian tomatoes, from Italy. Fine, that’s the best way to make a Pizza. But if his heart was really in it, wouldn’t he stick to British pub grub and replace the pizzas with more Brtish pies tarts and pasties? There are some belters about, beef, chicken, steak and ale, cheese and onion, game, chicken-mushroom-and-chedder. Not to mention vegetarian or Cornish Pasty and my own particular favourite – steak and kidney in a suet pastry. Is Tim Wetherspoon really a Gastronomic Remainer?
***No Flies on That Guy
In the Bible, Job was made to suffer many trials and tribulations. But he wasn’t pooh-poohed.
So Where’s the Problem?
The Port of Calais is desperate to retain our business. It assures us that if we crash out of the EU there will be no more delays than there are now. Dover too, says it is ready for a no deal Brexit. All the European ports from Roscoff to Rotterdam are vying for our trade. Europe needs us and our money. That’s good. We need them for trade. But we also need to be free to negotiate deals with the worldwide family of trading nations and emerging markets. Once free we can adjust our taxes to attract investors from every quarter. Don’t listen to the doom-mongers. They tried it on before the Referendum. They failed then. They must fail now.
Cometh the hour cometh the... hello?! Hello?!
Where’s the bloody cavalry?
Nuclear Submarine Attack...
The English are dredging mud from around the nuclear power station at Hinckley Point in Somerset and dumping it in Cardiff Bay. Cardiff is the capital of Wales. The mud, to a greater or lesser degree, is nuclear reactive. There are miles of English coastline just as handy to Hinckley, why not park your toxic material there?
Old Juncker... (To the tune Widecombe Fair)
Old Juncker, Old Juncker, lend me your deaf ear,
we’re a big market with fish in our sea,
can trade with the wide world without you my dear
wi’ no Blairites or Bercows, Nicky Morgans,
Vince Cables, Heseltineys, Anna Soubrys,
disdainful Ken Clarks - sod ‘em all,
disdainful Ken Clarks - sod ‘em all.