Showing posts with label Brits. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brits. Show all posts

Monday, July 22, 2013

I've loved and goodbyed



Forgot about the little bit of piano at the end. Now the video makes sense.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

My kids have plastic boots. So?



...phew, glad that's over....

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Cool

...and refreshing.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

James Delingpole Deals With the O'Bama Blarney

Painfully funny.

Ah Bejaysus and Begorrah! Oi’ll be swearin’ boi the auld shrine to the Vorgin with the shamrocks growin’ round it next to the hill where Cuchullain slew the Great Leprechaun of Kildare on St Patrick’s Day that Barack Seamus O’Toole Flaherty Joyce O’Bama is the most Irish US president that ever set foot on the Emerald Oisle, so he is, so he is.

Except, when he’s in Africa, of course, when he disappears into the dry ice and re-emerges with a grass skirt and a bone through his nose and declares himself to be Mandingo, Prince of the Bloodline of the Bonga People, Drinker of Cattle Urine, Father of A Thousand Warrior Sons, Keeper of King Solomon’s Mines, Barehanded Slayer of Lions, Undaunted Victim of the Evil Colonial British Empire.

And in the Middle East, where he is Al-Barak Hussein Obama, Protector of the Holy Shrine, Smiter of the Kuffar, Lion of the Desert, Tent-Loving-Aficionado-of-the-Oversweetened-Coffee, Chomper of Sheeps’ Eyeballs, Restorer of the Caliphate.

Etc.

Keep reading it until the end. It's a can of verbal whoop-ass to say the least. Every line hits the target.