Listen up, you slack-jawed, screen-addicted zombies shuffling through the country like rats in a sewer pipe dream. I’m Spider Thompson, back from the edge of sanity with a fresh injection of rage and a throbbing hangover. Today, we’re dissecting the festering corpse of journalism that’s been shat out by that bile-spewing hack, @MichelleDewbs. Yeah, her. The one who’s got you all frothing at the mouth like rabid dogs chasing phantom immigrants across the Channel.
I’ll level with you straight from the gut, kids – if you’re dumb enough to gulp down her cherry-picked poison without so much as a fact-check enema, I get it. The rage hits like a brick to the balls. Suddenly, the blame games, the riots sparking like cheap fireworks, the blood boiling over into righteous fury – it all makes twisted sense when you’re choking on her frame-job stories. Hell, the hatred and violence even feels like a holy crusade. And that’s exactly why this ignorant, pus-dripping cunt “Dewbs” is a prime slab of the goddamn problem rotting at the heart of this shitshow society.
Plant your asses down hard, you flag-wanking morons, because there’s a real mess here. The boats? They’re a festering wound on the body politic, immigration’s a clusterfuck of epic proportions that needs a surgeon with balls of steel to sort out. Fix it properly, and her ammo dries up like a junkie’s last vein in a back-alley overdose. Personally? I’d ram through the fixes with a chainsaw if I had to. But unlike this sorry sack of journalistic diarrhoea, I don’t peddle half the story and leave you dangling in the void, swinging like a piñata full of lies.
No, what Dewbs serves up is half-truths laced with venom, designed to hook you like bad smack. Take the ECHR, for instance – that bureaucratic behemoth’s got fuck-all to do with the “boat people,” you brain-dead tools. Her fantasy of a finger-snap solution? Pure bullshit vapor, evaporating under the harsh light of reality. We can’t just sail the navy into the Channel like some imperial wet dream – that’s basically declaring war on France, for fuck’s sake, you drooling idiots! Picture it: battleships versus baguettes, and we’re the assholes starting World War Croissant.
Then there’s the real meat-grinder gnawing at our souls: maritime law. Those tiny, death-trap boats bobbing in our waters like suicidal corks? We’re legally bound to haul ass and rescue the poor bastards, or we become the monsters in our own horror story. Why the hell am I spelling this out like a kindergarten teacher with a hangover? Because she never does, that’s why. Dewbs skips the context like a rat dodging floodlights, commits fraud by omission every goddamn time she opens her yap or hits “post.” And the bitch gets paid fat stacks for it – blood money from the fear factory, turning your paranoia into her payday.
If you want to go full throttle on her ass – and trust me, I do – she’s weaponizing her media megaphone to brew up fear and violence for her own twisted personal and political gain. That’s the textbook definition of a terrorist, straight up, no chaser. Stirring the pot until it boils over into chaos, all while counting her clicks and coins. So what do you say, Dewbs? You a terrorist, you slimy fear-monger? Spill it, confess your sins to the masses, or crawl back into whatever dank hole you slithered out of. The country’s got enough vermin without your brand of plague.
I’m out, filthy readers. Go fact-check something for once, or I’ll come for you next with the truth hammer. Thompson, signing off – until the next outrage drags me back.
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