What ho, oiks!
I am generally an amiable soul, but not this morning. Have you read this? Can you believe it? The Englishman’s hard-earned wonga going to bail out those feckless Paddies across the Irish Sea? And to the tune of seven billions of Her Majesty’s Pounds, no less? It’s a complete bloody outrage! Surely Cameron won’t sign off on this? I simply cannot believe that any Tory government could be so damned foolhardy as to write that drunken oaf Cowan a cheque for seven billions of pounds.
I shouldn’t mind so much if I thought Seamus would put the shillings to good use, perhaps by mending his tin roof or buying in some peat for the winter. But having some considerable experience of our Irish friends, I can assure you that the first thing Seamus will do with his Saxon shilling will be to head straight down to his local shebeen to get tanked up on poteen, after which he'll go for a fight, and thence to his hovel to sleep it off and give the wife a slap or three, and then the feckless bugger will do it all again the next night. As sure as night follows day, he won’t stop guzzling until every one of Her Majesty’s pounds has been pissed away in whiskey!
And if by some miracle there are a few quid left over after Seamus’s binge, then you can be damned sure that the money will not go on protecting his spuds from blight, or mending the shoes of his thirteen children, or any of those boring but prudent things that a Saxon might do with his money. No, he’ll be off on a nice jolly to Prague “wit de lads for de craic” to get stocked up on semtex and Armalite rifles, the sly Fenian bugger!
I mean really, chaps, this is just too much! It’s bad enough paying one’s taxes to keep the proles of Liverpool and Glasgow in benefits, but paying off the debts of the Micks as well? It’s enough to make a Saxon yeoman pick up his pike and march on Westminster, I tell you! In earnest, if we are to give these buggers money, then I want some stringent terms and conditions attached, namely:
- Every freeborn Englishman to be granted the right to take 1 flame-haired Irish filly as a concubine;
- The Rugby Football Union to be granted first dibs on Irish beefcakes of Saxon descent such as Stephen Ferris;
- Sir Terry Wogan to be installed as Viceroy at Dublin Castle (I'm afraid I just don't have the time, chaps - and I think Sir Terry might be more of a psychopath than he lets on!)
- Roy Keane to be caged in London Zoo and forced to mate with Maori tribeswomen, the resulting progeny to be used as shock troops of the British Empire;
- Every Irishman to be forced to wear black-and-tan uniforms to work on Fridays, just for a laugh
There's no point quibbling or sulking or brandishing your fist, Seamus. You're in no position to argue. We jolly well gave you your independence and look what you've done with it! Pissed it up the wall! I want Sir Terry in Dublin Castle by Friday or you can forget about receiving any of this Saxon's shillings!
God Save The Queen!
Yours, etc
Viscount Crouchback
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