This stinking cesspool of a nation is spiralling down the crapper, and you lot are just sitting there, gobbling up the lies like it’s free kebab day at the chip shop. Some poor sod – probably off his meds, definitely off his rocker – gets his arse handed to him on a London train for dropping his trousers. Why? Because the air’s thick with this toxic immigrant-bashing bile spewed by every two-bit politician and their brain-dead news cronies. This guy, who needed a doctor, not a beating, is now nursing broken bones because of the hate you idiots keep lapping up. Wake the fuck up, people – this isn’t a game. This is real blood on the tracks, and it’s on all of us for letting this immigrant panic fester like a bad rash.
And yeah, I’m about to choke on my own vomit for saying this, but Farage – bloody Farage – has a point buried under his mountain of bullshit: Britain’s lawless. But not because of some shadowy “invader” horde, but because our newsrooms, our feeds, and especially our so-called leaders are pumping out lies faster than a drunk pisses in an alley. These sick fucks in suits are playing you like a cheap fiddle, and you’re dancing to their tune. Let’s rip the mask off the last few days and see these depraved bastards for what they are.
Start with the top dog, Starmer, our shiny new PM. What’s this clown up to? Oh, just flushing billions down the toilet over the Chagos Islands. Handing over land like it’s a fucking party favour, and get this – they’re paying someone else to take it! In what universe does that make sense? You give me your house, you pay me as well? Bollocks. And now, whoops, turns out the numbers were off – by billions. Something’s rotten in that festering pit called Westminster. Strap every MP and PM to a lie detector, I say. Let’s see how many seconds they last before the machine explodes.
Then there’s Badenoch, riding Farage’s coattails so hard you can hear the leather squeak. She’s banging on about “migrant camps” like it’s some bold new idea. Spoiler: it’s not. It’s older than the dirt under her manicured nails, and she doesn’t mean a word of it. Next week, she’ll be on about some fantasy tax cut or whatever else she’s hallucinating. Someone check her desk for my stash – she’s clearly high as a kite, spouting this recycled drivel to keep the headlines hot.
And Farage? Christ, where do I start? This week’s lie is – surprise! – boats. He’s peddling a decade-old video from Greece, waving it around like it’s live footage of an “invasion.” The man’s either lost his grip or he’s fishing for a martyr’s crown, hoping the law slaps him so he can cry “persecution” like some knockoff Jesus. It’s fraud, plain and simple – lying to scare up votes. I fired off an email to my MP demanding why this slimy git gets a free pass. Don’t hold your breath for a reply.
Where’s Ed Davey in this circus? Good question. The Lib Dems might as well have packed up and fucked off to Narnia. This guy’s quieter than a mime in a coma, popping up only to whine about Brexit in The Guardian, which’ll print any steaming pile from anyone with a pulse. Serious politician? Please. He’s about as useful as a paper umbrella in a monsoon.
These four – Starmer, Badenoch, Farage, Davey – they’re just rich pricks playing power games, tossing out lies and cheap tricks like confetti. Not one of them’s worth the spit in your mouth. The country’s burning, and they’re pouring petrol on the flames while you cheer like brain-dead sheep. I’m done with this shitshow. I’m off to drown my brain in cheap whisky and watch something so pathetic it makes this lot look competent.
Wake up, you filthy bastards, or we’re all fucked.
Spider Thompson, signing off.
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