Monday, 4 July 2016

#Brexit: A royal fuck-up by caddish toffs

In utter disgust
Nothing spells disgust as the troop of inveterate spineless public school educated Englishmen who have shirked and absconded from responsibility when they have been met with the challenge and the call to duty.
It is appalling beyond words and utterly contemptible that we by the hand and machinations of a few little men consumed from schoolyard rivalry projected on the nation in a barefaced dare redolent of Renaissance duel, that has gambled away fortune and future for uncertainty and flux.
Deserters most vile
We are here today with Nigel Farage who spent 17 years earning a handsome purse in Europe as a scoundrel and a scallywag, uncouth, uncultured, intemperate, a rascal, and a truant extraordinaire who for all he did not do for us in the European Parliament has never been called to order, easing himself into retirement from the leadership of Ukip.
Before him, we had Boris Johnson, the bumbling scatterbrain of a nincompoop, the ebullient and charismatic leader of the #Brexit campaign, refusing to step up and put in order the turmoil he has wrought by his escapade which for all intents was to become Prime Minister at the expense of his lifelong rival, David Cameron.
The day after the #Brexit vote, just as the markets slid and the pound plummeted with no clear guidance of what the future holds, David Cameron threw in the towel and before us we had a rudderless, listing and a precarious situation at the most trying of times for Great Britain in almost a century.
These men and I use men lightly would have been typical of deserters, cowards with neither cojones nor liver who in the heat of battle turned their backs on the frontline and hightailed to the bosom of their mothers quaking and trembling like leaves that it would behove the generals to have then shot at dawn and never remembered for anything but their cowardice.
A disgrace beyond countenance
These men are a disgrace to everything that makes the English proud and gave us the history that dogs our present existence as we strive to punch above our weight in the world. However, in just 11 short days we are diminished in status, in influence, in capacity and in leverage.
We had no #Brexit plan, it is in fact almost laughable that we do not have any experts to negotiate the best deals for our post-#Brexit status, we might have to hire immigrant expertise to fight our corner. So much for #Brexit, it was a wasteful exercise that exacerbated division, accentuated anxiety, heightened uncertainty and complicated issues, many of which are unanticipated and frankly idiotic as they materialise.
A royal fuck-up
How did we end up with such a royal fuck-up orchestrated by some of the people who are supposed to be the most privileged, best educated and self-assured? Never has such a great nation been bequeathed to a generation so lacking in honour and gratitude for being chosen that they have brought it so low that what we have left is empty boasts, bluster, bombast and baloney.
Europe is not going to bend over backwards for us and the sooner we realise we’ve shot ourselves in the foot with #Brexit, the easier it would be to get treatment for the wounds.
Shame on all of them. If a man cannot stand when called to stand up and be seen, we might well have their dogs for company, the loyalty of the animal might just begin to pay for their perfidy and treachery.
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