Get a load of this...
Last week, God finally came good on his promise to fuck us all up and sent biblical floods to the UK. Strangely, they destroyed exactly the sort of Middle England shit hole that tends to like God but that's beside the point. The floods cut the water off. Emergency water tanks were dispatched. Yobs pissed in them and filled them with bleach.
Yesterday, Europe's most expensive railways were set to get even more expensive as the motley band of incompetents and arsewits who make money out of them announced they needed even more money from us in order to make the UK's railway network look less like a cluster of Bangladeshi tramlines.
Last night, some poor fucker was chased through the streets by some bunch of bastards and shot in the face. He was sixteen.
Our children are the most miserable. Our roads are the most clogged. Our food is the most shit. Our borders are the most porous. Our weather is the most grey.
The UK is going down the shitter.
So what do we do? What is the response to this national crisis? With Britain in need of inspiration and rebuilding, those of us who can just pack up and fuck off.
And that sucks.
I know it sucks. Because I'm doing it myself. My missus is from Madrid and after several years of not entirely untarnished bliss here in Britain, we are relocating to her hometown. But I like to think there's a difference between me and the thousands of other British whiners who sod off to Spain or Portugal or fucking poxy Australia whinging on about how Britain's gone to the dogs and smugly waxing on about how they've "always adored" Spain or Portugal or fucking poxy Australia. Number one, I can actually speak Spanish. Number two I am not sniffing around the Costas for some wedding cake, disneyland, vomit choke, pink and purple Villa with a swimming pool and a view of some guitar playing peasant. I am simply looking for a flat in the big city with enough space for me, my Espanola and my dog, Marlowe (which I think we've found). Number Three, I've got a job and intend to do something other than sitting on my fat arse drinking dodgey, just-for-the-foreigners Sangria. And number four... and this is the big one... I'm not especially happy about leaving Britain.
Because Britain has a lot of problems. But every one of those problems is caused by people. And only people can do anything about them. Nasty New Labour have infringed our civil liberties with their CCTV and their obsession with ID cards. Nasty Nutty Islam is on the rise and threatening everyone and making stupid demands. Our schools are more like US jails than schools. And no-one can afford a house.
So let's do something about it! I had a friend who married a fucking poxy Australian and pissed off to fucking poxy Australia and never spoke to any of us in England ever again. Well, fuck him. I intend to come back regularly and do everything within my extremely limited power to make Britain a better place. Because it's my home and will remain my responsibility. And when my children ask me about where I'm from I will tell them that Britain is a mighty country that is fighting to remain free and fair amidst a lot of lies, a lot of greed and a lot of insanity.
It'll get better but not unless we do something about it. Fuck the wankers with their villas and their Australian wives. We should all take responsibilty for the state of our nation. Stand up to yobs, give to charity, protect free speech and be proud to be British.