Bobby47
Dec 2, 2020
“Anti LBGT” EU politician caught with drugs escaping down a drainpipe and breaching lockdown at a gay orgy. Watch “Top European Parliament politician quits over lockdown-defying orgy” on YouTube
Bloody Hell! In his quest for manly love he’s managed to completely fuck himself up. Quite frankly, I don’t blame him for his unorthodox egress from this loving gathering. Indeed, if it were me, and I’m thrilled it’s not me, I personally don’t blame him for scurrying down a drainpipe.
Who can blame him? Frankly, it’s probably the best of all the separate decisions that he made in this sorry tale of making a series of crap decisions that began when he decided to illicitly enter this building in pursuit of sexual gratification.
No! Given the circumstances and all that, I do not blame him for choosing to leave via the drainpipe. Whatsmore, I’d go further and freely admit that had it been me, and it bloody wasn’t, I’d have chosen the drainpipe as well.
As regards his breach of the lockdown, which in this era of social madness clearly places him in the evil twat bracket, this transgression should be met with little or no sympathy from all of us out here who stick to the rules, obey and believe everything we’re told by our betters and are ready to patiently queue to be injected with God Only Knows What!
As an aside, to mitigate his lapse in personal responsibility,I’m reliably informed by a source who doesn’t exist that it’s clear that he was wearing a gimp mask throughout his many acts of love and this, and this alone should persuade the hierarchy to reinstate him immediately so that he can continue his good works in the European Parliament.
Bobby47
Nov 14, 2020
I Am Banned. 4-6 WEEKS of LOCKDOWN: ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!
As you well know old friend the term Lockdown, Don’t Do It and any other bloody thing that you can come up with that pretty much says, ‘You Cant’, doesn’t apply to me.
None of it. I do exactly as I please and nothing ‘they’ can say or do will make a blind bit of difference to how I conduct the life I have. In fact, other than locking the Ale House door that prevents me gathering with the lads, supping Ale, playing Three Card Brag and discussing which famous women we’d like to kiss if they’d consent to us kissing them, there’s nothing I can think of that has made me comply to their madness.
I completely ignore the arrows on the floor that instruct me on which way I should walk up the aisle in any shop, I don’t wear a mask, now will I ever wear their mask, I cough when I need to and when it’s sunny I’ll happily gaze up at the Sun and sneeze on myself and anyone else who might have plucked up the courage and venture into my ‘Bubble’. I do all this over and over again because I don’t care. I don’t care because it doesn’t matter whether or not I care because the outcome of whether I care or not has no impact upon the final logical conclusion to the madness that’s been served up to humanity. That is, we are all completely fucked and it seems as though there’s nothing anyone can do to avoid the final outcome which is, we are completely fucked up.
No! There’s nothing that they can do to stop me doing whatever I please to do. Other than by nature being a completely awkward twat and happily still equipped with a mind that God equipped me with to rationally think things through, I honestly can’t think of one single thing ‘they’ can do to me that’d stop me being an awkward twat.
And that’s it. That’s my rambling thought for the day. Irrational? Perhaps. But it beats anything else that might top Trump, pun intended, my reaction to all these apocalyptic messages of gloom, doom and death to all who refuse to do as they’re told.
Bobby47
Nov 12, 2020
A reminder of the Jack Nicklaus golf course, a failed Trojan Horse used by Wirral Labour Council – to despoil the countryside with luxury units
And not forgetting their other unmitigated disasters that resulted in huge financial losses to the people of the Wirral.
There was the jolly jaunt to the Orient that trumpetted the era of unique opportunity to amass great wealth from trade deals, the creation of a thousand jobs and open the door to things that were beyond the imagination of any optimistic, the glass is half full, bloody stupid poor sod who’s brain was addled and out of its mind tripping on hallucinations brought on by the consumption of handfuls of psilocybin mushrooms.
As I remember, just like their venture into Reno Nevada where they believed that Birkenhead could become the Golden Nugget Gambling Casino of the North West, all they ever really achieved was flogging a box of thirty Tea Towels lovingly created by Wirral Housewives Ltd and an album of photographs joyfully recording God Knows How Many delegates the Council dispatched to fly across The Pond and have the time of their lives at the public expense.
Bloody Councils! They’re all the same. Instead of cutting the grass, cleaning the bloody streets, emptying the bins,watering our hanging bloody baskets and filling in potholes you could secrete a dead cat in, they do what they do best. Fucking things up!
To be kind and fair to Wirral Borough Council, they’re hardly alone in wasting money, dreaming up mindless gimmicks of blue sky thinking and fucking it all up. Not so long back, only weeks before the bloody Ukraine Civil War, my bloody elected lot of incompetent bungling public service idiots cleared off toward an eastern border bloody area that was sure to piss the Russians off and negotiated the unique opportunity to build a factory on the soil of Blighty and build a huge bomb. Needless to say, once the hostilities kicked off the thousand promised jobs that would have been created building this dreadful bomb never materialised.
As for the Nicholson Golf Course, the thousand jobs and the millions of pounds that it would generate for the people of the Wirral who paid for the flights, the overnight stays, the Consultancy fees and God Knows what else, given that no fucker can now go out to get some bloody excercise because of a bloody virus that nobody really understands, it’s probably a blessing in disguise that this particular idea went belly bloody up!
Return to Bomb Alley 1982 – The Falklands Deception, by Paul Cardin
Amazon link
Wirral In It Together 