Category: Malcolm Tucker

That’s a ridiculous headline and an even more ridiculous story line, even for the hammy misery of the BBC’s most depressing soap, you’d think. Not in reality though, not in Britain in 2018.

What the fuck is going on? People that we begged to help us over 50 years ago, to assist in rebuilding our war torn country, who have grafted like bastards, raised families and paid taxes all their lives are now being treated like they’ve just arrived hidden in the back of a fucking lorry from Calais.

We’re talking about proud Brits here, assured by the state of their status in return for their invaluable contribution. The so called Windrush generation have done more than most natives to earn that privilege.

They may be / had been proud Brits but right now I’m not. What this government have done is abhorrent, it’s not only an insult but a complete betrayal.

How would you feel if your grandparents were worrying about if they’re still eligible for state pension after a lifetime of work, or free NHS treatment, or the right to stay in their own fucking country for that matter?

I hate people labelling right wing politicians as Nazis, it’s lazy and usually a massive over reaction, however, if I wasn’t convinced complete incompetence was to blame for this shambles I’d happily use the term myself right now.

Administration errors, lost papers, fuckwits running departments, whatever, it just doesn’t cut it, neither do excuses or apologies.

These cunts are not fit to govern and I don’t know how many more times we’re going to simply roll over and allow them to cross that line time and time again.

You are now more likely to get stabbed to death in London than you are to find 10p in your coat pocket, which is an absolute statistical certainty. Probably.

Breitbart ‘News’ and Britain’s favourite micro racist, Tommy Robinson, are adamant that the sharp increase in violent crime falls solely on the shoulders of London Mayor, Sadiq Khan, probably because he’s brown an that.

However, they fail to take into account the massive cuts that the Tories have imposed on the Police Force, resulting in a loss of 20,000 Police Officers.

“It’s easier with terrorism.” said a government spokescunt.

“We just wheel in the army for that shit and everyone thinks we know what we’re doing. Unfortunately you can’t call them everytime a 13 year old gets all stab happy with his gran’s bread knife though.”

So far many options have been tabled in Parliament from, you know, actually funding the Police, to making everyone wear see-through clothing so knives are visible and people can just run away.

The decision to install 100,000 cardboard cut-outs of Police Officers accross the city was finally reached late last night, with the majority of MP’s agreeing that this is the most cost effective option citing the schemes success in Poundland stores.

At first Jeremy Corbyn seemed like a breath of fresh air, different from all the other soundbite spouting suit wankers.

Here was a man who stood out as well as standing up for people without a voice. A man who actually answered questions seemingly without an agenda, in his own words, and in all his resplendent corduroy glory.

He cared as much about self image as a fat lass in leggings. The only thing that seemed to matter to him were the less fortunate.

‘This is a man I can get behind’ I thought. Finally a representative with proper Socialist values, and so, like Domino’s on a Saturday night, he got my vote.

Then the trouble started and I began to doubt my allegiance.

First there was an attempted coup: A scruffy haggered woman told us Corbyn was not fit to lead a conga line, let alone Labour and so put herself up for party leadership. I wasn’t fully convinced by this however and so continued with my support for him.

Then a smartly dressed Welsh man told us the same. He was a like Tony Blair before he sold his soul and also didn’t really appeal to me.

Then, on August 23, 2016, my support for Mr. Corbyn was crushed like a Chaser’s deck chair. He betrayed me and thousands of his followers by sitting on the floor of a train.

From there things escalated very quickly. There were pictures of him stood next to people, someone said he might have been a spy once.

It just got worse. He liked a murial on social media, failed to condemn everything bad that’s happened in the world since the dawn of time, asked for evidence before starting a war, and then hr finally showed his true antisemitic roots by celebrating Passover with Jewish people.

The final nail in the coffin for me came today though, after famous human rights activist, environmentalist and champion of the poor, Lord Alan Sugar condemned Mr. Corbyn.

After all, how could I still support this animal after a man of such standing and respect said he can’t?

Another day, another new thing to be offended by. This time it’s pretending you’re pregnant because it upsets some people.

Big fucking deal, people also pretend they’ve proposed to their significant others too. I’m single and desperately fucking lonely but do you hear me kicking off because someone’s pretending to get married do you?

No, all you hear from me is quiet weeping into a pillow. Should we ban fucking Valentine’s day as well because it pisses loners and singletons off?

You shouldn’t pretend you’re pregnant, not because it’s offensive but because it’s shit. That joke makes ‘why did the chicken cross road?’ told by Bernard Manning look fresh for fuck’s sake.

The bottom line is this: Some people say stuff sometimes and you might take offence. If it wasn’t offered however, then you’re the one with the problem.

People shouldn’t have to know your full life story in order to avoid saying something which may cause you to get upset.

You’re evolved fucking beings, masters in the art of silent communication, body language, tone and infliction. Use it for Christ’s sake.

If a person didn’t sound like they were trying to be offensive then they probably fucking weren’t.

 

I mean, what’s the fucking point? Think about it in terms of actual reality.

It’s like losing touch with a friend because your lives have changed and you’ve both taken different paths, then phoning all of your other friends to tell them about it.

You wouldn’t fucking bother would you, so why do it on Facebook?

It’s usually goes something like this:

“Right. Feel better now. I’ve just deleted loads of people! I had people on here I don’t even know saying things I don’t even agree with! And I haven’t even spoke to the others in years. 687 friends down to 665! Well done if you survived cull x lol.”

Fuck off you attention seeking cunt. No one gives a fuck. In fact, even your remaining friends probably unfollowed you long ago on account of your vapid insights and lost dog shares from the other side of the world posted 4 years ago.

These twats are worse than those “I’m leaving” fuckers. Off you pop then, no one gives a fuck about you either. You’ll be missed about the same as that skin tag I had removed.

Has the Catholic church just given up? Since making this Jim Bowen look-a-like the voice of God it feels like it.

Long gone are days of fire and brimstone, hell doesn’t even exist now anyway apparently, you just cease to exist like UKIP.

In the past he’s agreed with the Big Bang Theory and Evolution, saying that God ‘doesn’t have a magic wand’. No fucking shit, if God did exist he wouldn’t need one, because he’s fucking God.

It’s like watching a Father Ted sequel where Dougal has somehow climbed the ranks all the way up to Pope and now he’s just telling it like he sees it:

“Bum away if you want, if God existed he wouldn’t care anyway. Think about it, he wouldn’t have made it possible to bum if he didn’t like it.”

I can’t work out if he just fell into the job and now resents it, or he genuinely just goes out of his way to fuck the church off.

Maybe it’s like The Secret Millionaire, only he’s a Secret Atheist on a brilliant mission to destroy the Vatican. Either way it’s funny as fuck waiting to see what he’ll say next.

Another day and another scandal for Facebook. After a week of dealing with the data sharing revelation, Oxfam and The Red Cross have heavily condemned the social media platform.

After a ‘massive blunder’ whereby the tech giant ‘accidentally’ sent pictures of people’s dinner instead of vital likes and prayers to famine stricken parts of Africa, an estimated 150,000 people are thought to be in immediate danger.

Alfred Loaf, a spokesman for Oxfam said:

“This is unforgivable. The data breach is one thing, but people are now dying because of incompetence plain and simple. To send pictures of food just adds insult to injury.”

He continued: “Imagine the horror of those poor kids as they eagerly opened their likes packages to find pictures taken in Nandos instead. It’s a fucking disgrace.”

Facebook have so far declined to comment, however, records show that a further 1.8k food pictures are already on route.

Another day and another scandal for Facebook. After a week of dealing with the data sharing revelation, Oxfam and The Red Cross have heavily condemned the social media platform.

After ‘a massive blunder’ whereby the tech giant ‘accidentally’ sent pictures of people’s dinner instead of vital likes and prayers to famine stricken parts of Africa, an estimated 150,000 children have thought to have perished as a result.

Alfred Loaf, a spokesman for Oxfam said:

“This is unforgivable. Those children died of incompetence plain and simple and to send pictures of food just adds insult to injury.”

He continued: “Imagine the horror of those poor kids as they eagerly opened their likes packages, only to find pictures taken in Nando’s instead. It’s  a fucking disgrace.”

Facebook have so far declined to comment, however, records show that a further 1.8k food pictures are already on route.

In just 12 short months we’ll give a massive two digit Churchillian peace salute to those unelected, pasta munching, frog leg chewing, nonsense mumbling, foreign bastards, and declare freedom once more in our green and pleasant land.

Paste tables will be laid out from Lands End to John o’ Groats, covered with the Union Flag and weighed down with a bountiful offering of truly British delicacies like tripe and pies.

We’ll declare it Britain Day! It’ll be a national holiday and we’ll celebrate by downing warm Carling and glassing anyone who makes fuck eyes at our wives.

The homeless will rise from their spiced induced comas, step into their new homes and then join us, showered, clean and employed.

Hospital staff will wheel in the terminally ill from the wet car parks and treat, nay, heal them, without those meddling Eastern Europeans scuppering their chances anymore.

The Tories will revive Winston Churchill from his cryo-sleep to rule us once more with his fair iron fist, and our distant colonies will come begging to us, offering up their servitude in our new and brilliant re-instated Empire.

Supermarkets accross the land will close down, giving way to independent butchers and green grocers, with sturdy British names like Smith and Jones, and within ten years we’ll be saying goodbye to those pesky ration books.

Cotton mills will rise up across the north once more like temples of hope, and I’ll be able to earn an honest days pay for my sixteen hour shift, as I look forward to Christmas day when I’ll finally be able to relax with the family, all twenty of us in our cosy 2 up, 2 down terraced house.

After all, it’s only fair for working class scum like me, and life will be so much simpler without those interfering unions telling us what to do, or those confusing human rights.

Bring on 2019 for true freedom.

The UK is falling apart quicker than a Brexit argument, with an NHS is crisis, a paper thin blue line, millions living in poverty and a homelessness epidemic to boot.

Food banks are also just another part of life now like vegans, or body shaming. Concepts that only a few short years ago would have been considered more absurd than Joey from Friends presenting Top Gear, or a six foot, twat jawed, hay haired fuckwit Presiding over one of the world’s biggest super powers.

Then there’s our wonderful employment record, statistics I’d definitely believe if everyone serving fried things, or boxing up your Amazon shit weren’t promised a grand total of fuck all hours in their contracts.

Local councils are so underfunded that they’re actually considering fining homeless people, which is like asking me for that 20 quid back on the 29th. It’s not fucking happening pal.

Finally there’s our roads, which make Amazonion dirt tracks trampled by herding elephants look like a fucking spa for your tyres by comparison.

There’s Roman roads in better condition than my fucking High street. I keep hearing about funding to sort this shit out, so what are they doing with it, filling the holes with fifty pound notes? Because from where I’m standing it looks they’re using buckets of fuck all.

The way things are going I’m surprised the government isn’t employing people to roll homeless, comatose, spice heads into them to kill two birds with one fucking stone.