Friday, February 22, 2008
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Stanislav's Rants on Guido (www.order-order.com) plus whatever else tickles my fancy.
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- Plumbers Assistant
- This blog is a compilation of Stanislav's Rants as they appear on Guido. It is neither operated nor sanctioned by him. If you don't like it, don't come back.
Dear Mr Too Old For This Shit
Once, y'see, they get away with Iraq - an event, let us not forget, which "misled" the feeblest brains in the land, such as pretend lawyer Michael Howard, QC, MP and pretend environmentalist Dave Flashman and all the other pig-cunts down in that trough - we move quickly to a culture of Jack Straw's torture-as-evidence: into a climate where cookery teacher Schmidt can argue for illegal detention of British citizens and not get stones thrown at her fat stupid arse; where Sir Iain Blair-Bendover's boys can shoot without blame; where the Mayor can throw money around like Al Capone and where, within a week, promises from HM government to repay dirty money are forgotten and overlooked. And where, compared with everything that has gone before, this Northern Rock gangster shit just looks like a wee bit of shoplifting.
Tommy, meanwhile, in two pointless policing actions, freelancing for Tony Blair's US paymasters, gets his ill-equipped arse blown off for sweet fuck all and comes home to a beggar's portion courtesy of the unspeakable, miserable, cowardly Jock turd, Browne with an E for Excrement. If Tommy's lucky he won't get MRSA in one of Alan Johnstone's flagship shithole death hospitals, run by some thieving useless bint with an MBA. And all the while we pay this worthless cunt Sandler a million pounds a year for handling stolen property. It's easy, the one big crime just merges into a whole, endless caravan of larceny, murder and treason.
These robot apparatchiks, Blears and the Ballses and Flint, especially Flint and the Millipedes and the bizarre fuckwit Ruth Man Kelly and the Great Visionary him/herself look and sound as though they warped-in from Munich 1933. Theirs the language of totalitarianism - and given the risible, cowardly, bicycling performance of the Flashmanites this may as well be a one-party state - theirs the repressions cast as freedom, theirs is the dictum that says, in a very real sense, and subject to parliamentary scrutiny by some obnoxious monster like Alex Carlisle, or Admiral Liberace Bendover, torture is ok. Torture is not Ok.
George Bush, in whose interests the UK now operates, is a cowardly, draft-dodging, coke-snorting, wife-beating, alcoholic chimp in thrall to MegaCorpWarsRus Inc and he has trampled the star spangled banner in shit, the world over. Any decent British government would excoriate this monster, he has no support at home; New Labour sucks his cock and licks his arse. Special relationship. It's just that it's Tommy gets to eat the shit and die. A small price to secure Tony and Imelda Blair's financial future. Anybody else remember Honest Tone saying how he was so proud of the way they'd served him? Yes, him. Honest. Not invent.
Europe is beautiful; its unelected, kleptomaniac, Kinnockocracy, though, is a greedy self-serving gang of bullying wordy criminals, like Hewitt and Mandelson. We should withdraw to our own borders. The UK simply is not sufficiently well-resourced to cope with the demands on its infrastructure and services of even a tiny fraction of the four hundred million now legally entitled to settle here; this is a unification wrought in the criminal madhouse, it can only fail, a child can see that.
We should come out of Iraq where we never should have been and from Afghnanistan where Dr Jock Reid, cowardly little Jock bully, said no Tommy would face a shot fired in anger and we should put the tanks and armoured cars where they belong, in Downing Street and on the Embankment.
Time for Up Against The Wall Motherfuckers.
love from stanislav