Category: Brexit

BRING OUT YOUR DEAD, FOR BREXIT : Great news for patriots who want to dismantle modern life as we know it today with the latest poll from hard right, tax haven serving, US neocon enabling, shitrag propaganda outfit, The Daily Telegraph.

“So many British people want Brexit they’re prepared for millions and millions more of them than actually exist to die to achieve it,” Telegraph poll expert, Mr Soulle Sold, told their sister publication, LCD Views (one of us was adopted from an adoption service for little baby Satans made in Hell, and we know who).

The poll result will be a boost for the beleaguered administration of Boris “shagger” Johnson, struggling daily to get enough people to buy their lies in the hope of making a killing.

“Efforts are underway now to capture some squirrels from the North American wild reservoir of the famous disease, yersini pestis, and bottle up a sample and then get it to the lab and modify it into a form readily contagious to humans.”

In expectation of the mass plague event the Gove-rnment is reportedly spending £5bn pounds on wheelbarrows and carts big enough to carry your average village’s fresh dead to pits.

“It’s not just cattle, sheep and random alpacas that will be on the burning countryside pyres to make a success of No Deal Brexit when winter harries Mighty Britannia in late 2019,” Mr Soulle Sold commented, “but readily infected, hard working British men, women and children.”

But critics have been quick to point out that polling firm ConRes, contracted to conduct the poll, maybe guilty of asking leading questions designed to achieve the result.

“The question in the poll was, ‘Would you support everyone’s best friend Boris ending parliamentary democracy in the United Kingdom in order to achieve No Deal Brexit, if it got you in the pants of someone you’ve ached privately to shag like forever, and instantly made you a multiple millionaire by magic?’, which is not misleading and very straightforward, in my estimation,” Mr Sold shrugged.

To make transmission of the Black Death more effective patriots are asked to stand especially close to anyone who looks peekish in coming weeks and to bathe in their bodily fluids as they explode out of the traditional, British pustules in their armpits.

“Oh, and their groins.”

Yes, and their haemorrhaging groins.

Brexit, let’s make a success of it, no matter what the cost. Tax dodgers are depending on it.

Dire warnings about Brexit have been plentiful recently. Both remainers and experts are agreed – Brexit is a crock of shit. Remainers expect to be blamed for it. But what if Brexit goes really well? That will be our fault too, remainers say.

Spokes-webmaster for the ‘Remain Is Best, Honest!’ group on Facepalm is Suki Tupp. She has seen the remain community blamed for everything from wet weather to England not winning the World Cup last time out.

“I’m sick of being the scapegoat for everybody and everything,” wrote Tupp on a recent group post. “Everything is our fault, apparently, so it’s about time we took credit for some of the good stuff too.”

Like the summer weather. “The hottest day on record is down to us remainers,” she continued. “Since all the heatstroke-related incidents are our fault somehow!”

Ditto the torrential rainstorms. “That dam that was close to breaking, that was blamed on us,” she wrote. “So let’s take credit for the successful remedial action, and in the wider scheme of things, England’s green and pleasant land! So far removed from the scorched-earth leavers.”

Then Brexit of course. “Naturally, a group of concerned citizens in cyberspace, as far removed from the corridors of power as Boris Johnson’s humility, has no influence upon government policy,” she states. “We think it’s undeliverable; therefore they say this is due to our lack of belief. But what if Brexit is a resounding success after all?”

Tupp left a dramatic pause in her post at this point, then resumed getting to the point very slowly indeed.

“What if we were all wrong? What if Brexit is all that was promised, and more?” she asks rhetorically. “Will it still be our fault?”

A question to which nobody had an adequate reply. Loyal remainers didn’t want to admit to being wrong, ever. Leavers on the page hated the suggestion that their victory was to someone else’s credit.

We won, you lost, but in fact we all won, and the losers take the spoils. Suck it up.

Life’s a beach! Summer holidays have been cut short because a suspicious individual left even more suspicious stuff on the shore.

Families in Worthing are at their wits’ ends. “There’s no way I can keep the kids out of the arcades now,” complained mum Enda Matether. “It’s hard enough to persuade them to have another donkey ride without rumours of dodgy characters on the front!”

The dodgy character is described as being male, blond, and distinctly upper class. He is believed to have left a lethal substance half buried in the sand.

Local police have been investigating. “Evening all,” remarked PC Gonmadd, waving his truncheon suggestively. “The beach is out of bounds until further notice. There’s some nasty stuff down there, and I don’t mean the donkey poo!”

The noxious fumes emanating from the beach have already had an impact on the town. The smell has driven away all the eastern European plumbers and barmaids. There is an unpleasant odour of smog and rationing. Parts of Worthing have turned black-and-white. It’s like a return to the 1950s, though how you can tell in Worthing is hard to say.

Things have become so bad that the holidaymakers of Worthing are considering bringing in an expert.

“I mean, the police are stretched to breaking point already,” moaned Matether. “Several keyboard warriors, three have a go heroes and a retired colonel have all tried to tackle it. All are convinced that they have what it takes.”

“It was no good,” said Gonmadd. “The warriors returned, white-faced, whispering ‘project fear’. The heroes proposed a technological solution, and the colonel declared it was all for the best. But none of them could shift it!”

Meanwhile, the blond saboteur left a trail of innuendo and seaside postcards. “He was in and out of my back door in a flash,” reminisced landlady Holly Day-Romance. “I said, do you come here often? He said, no, but I’d love to come again!”

Anyone wishing to stop this nonsense should apply, in their best copperplate handwriting, to the Queen, Buckingham Palace, London.

UWOTBRO : Makers of the famous board game, Monopoly, have announced it is to now come with actual UK pound sterling bank notes.

”It’s now cheaper than printing toy money to just stock the games with the real thing,” game re-designer Mr Brexit told LCD Views.

”The Royal Mint has already gone to the trouble of designing and printing the stuff, so why cut our profits by duplicating the effort when we can just pop down to the cash machine near the factory with a wheelbarrow and get out wads of sterling?”

The only snag appears to be how fiendishly bendy the current UK plastic currency is.

”To combat that we decided to do away with the five and ten pound notes. In reality they’re worthless in real life so to continue to include them in the sets of the board game isn’t keeping up to date. So just twenties, fifties and the hundred, two hundred and five hundred pound notes being printed so people have portable small change from November 1st.”

And the inclusion of the virtually worthless real money isn’t the only change to the famous game.

”We’ve included a new figure for people to play with. It’s a Tory politician. It has a special feature that is different to the classic avatars in the game. It can not land on the “Go To Jail” square at all. Oh, and it gets several million pounds at the start of the game. But there’s a new card in the Community Chest section. If the player using the politician draws this card they’re ordered to tell all the other players they got where they are by virtue of their own hard work.”

READY FOR NO DEAL : The National Grid has shone light into the darkness of last night by explaining the reason behind the power cut which plunged swathes of England, and its regions, into the black.

”It was a trial run for No Deal Brexit,” the spokesman said, “and an attempt to see if we could stop diesel and remainers talking the country down by stopping them talking to one another.”

The spokesman went on to say the trial was judged to be a complete success.

”Nobody ate anyone. That’s pretty much the high watermark for wild success in terms of Brexit. Expect a festival to celebrate. And no one will eat anyone else in that too. Well, it’s unlikely to occur.”

But a leaked internal email, obtained by this fictional news media organisation from inside an imagined version of energy regulator Ofgem, says it was an entirely different reason altogether.

”They turned the country off an on again. England specifically, but the outage affected other regions too. It was an attempt to solve Brexit,” our energy analyst, Mrs High Beam, reveals, “I don’t suppose it worked. The country is still rebooting so we won’t know until later if it worked or not. I don’t think it worked. Did you think it worked? Is anything different? Are the criminal investigations into the electoral crimes of 2016 actually happening? Is Boris Johnson still Prime Minister? If he is it didn’t work.”

But you should not to be discouraged as the leaked email reveals the test will be tried again in a “live fire sandbox” at the end of October.

On the 31st the entire country will be switched off and on again.

”Let’s just pray the bigger test doesn’t coincide with a KFC shortage or we’re f*cked.” 

BREXIPUTIA – Mapmakers report today that an entirely new land mass has been discovered off the coast of continental Europe that is just jammed full of people who who have no fucking idea what they’re doing.

“This is because they’re led by complete incompetents,” head explorer at Parochial Geographic, Professor Dominic Raabit told LCD Views.

But a cursory glance at the satellite imagery that led to the fascinating discovery reveals the land mass is very close to continental Europe. It’s a little puzzling why no one has stumbled across it before.

“Oh, they’ve been numerous reports over the years of a sensible, well governed, mature representative democracy existing as a collection of islands off the coast of France and the Netherlands for years. People have even claimed to have been there. People have turned up in France and Spain claiming to have come from there. But over the last three years the reports of a such a place have dried up. We decided to do a satellite survey to clear it up once and for all.”

The professor added that this has actually been tried several times since mid-2016, but there’s usually a murky fog over the area at the time and satellite imaging has proved difficult.

“We got lucky. A window opened for a few moments and we got the photographs. We decided next to see if we could detect any radio broadcasts. And we did.”

And what did you discover from listening to the broadcasts?

“Well, just a casserole of nonsense. The majority of the current leaders appear to be political pygmies, although some with larger frames are hanging about, ineffectively urging everyone to not do some extremely stupid thing that the leaders are set upon.”

What’s the stupid thing?

“They want to rename the country Brexiputia and set fire to it on the 31st of October this year.”

That sounds a bit silly.

“It’s more than that. It’s clear none of the leaders have a fucking idea what they’re doing. That much is obvious. But they’re all too proud to admit that things may have gotten out of hand.”

The government of national disunity has become the political wing of Leave.EU. Bereft of any real ideas or policies, it has substituted recycled propaganda.

This is why Boris Johnson is insisting that he’s going to do a great deal with the EU. Expect him to assert that we hold all the cards.

Expect him to deny that, with hindsight, that these cards are a joker, a business card from Dawdle, Ripov & Scarper estate agents, and Mr Bun the baker.

Expect him to say that these are brand new cards, and not the old cards covered with childish graffiti.

Expect him to tell you that post-Brexit Britain will be like an unsubtle variation of ‘sunlit uplands’. Sunny Highlands or something. Expect him to feign surprise when the country says ‘Bollocks!’

Expect an emphasis on blame. Britain’s Brexit policy and subsequent failure is already the fault of the EU, and, oddly, Ireland. Everyone’s fault but mine is the line. Pig farmers, global warming, negative thinking. Expect it to be all your own fault. Expect Britain to point the finger straight back.

Expect blatant racism. Swarms and hordes of vermin swamping the country. Reds under the bed. Any opponents of the Brexit faith denounced as traitors, saboteurs, enemies. Yada yada yada. Expect Boris to falter and corpse as even he can’t believe he’s saying it.

Expect pots to call the kettles black. Wait for unelected bureaucrat Dominic Cummings to call properly elected EU representatives unelected bureaucrats. Expect even the Daily Telegraph to start questioning this approach. Expect the country to laugh at Cummings and make crude puns on his name.

Expect Nigel Farage to come steaming in to denounce all and sundry, and say that he, and only he, is the true Keeper of the Flame of Brexit. Expect him to talk big but offer no practical advice. Expect him to offer to take over as PM, accountable only to himself. Expect him to slink away when nobody listens to him this time.

Expect Brexit to be cancelled instead of delayed this time.

THE LIES HAD IT! THE LIES HAD IT! : 10 Downing Street is said to be in a chaotic and disordered state today after it emerged that the new, white, tightly woven, cotton sofa delivered to the PM’s apartment is not stain proof.

“It’s not only that,” a Downing Street insider told LCD Views, “there’s PANIC too that the stockpile of governmental lies will be exhausted before Brexit!”

How the Johnson administration would manage without recourse to lying through their teeth isn’t clear and a clear reason to be alarmed.

“Unelected puppet master for life, Cummings, has his teams working 24/7 to produce new falsehoods to baffle the public and Brussels,” the insider revealed,

“but currently they’re just managing re-hashes of the crap May dished out. It’s not looking good. Although Labour’s refusal to consider a GNU is giving them some succour they may pull through and get No Deal Brexit delivered at Halloween. But the sands shift so fast, we can’t rely on MPs not doing their jobs forever. We need dissembling at 11 to disassemble the modern state for the profit of right wing moneymen. Not panic at 11!”

Who can keep their heads while all about them are losing their minds will be a deciding factor in the coming weeks. You could even say pivotal to the future of the country.

“We need to dial down the anxiety,” the insider added, “not just in Downing Street but across the country. The lemmings won’t jump off the cliff if just one of them breaks into a panic and turns away.”

Hold your nerve Global Britons! Billions have been bet on you holding your nerve and leaping on the 31st October 2019 with just the smallest, well calculated, data mined push.

The stakes are high, and the chips are down. Gamblin’ man Boris Johnson is betting his reputation, his party and your country on one last desperate throw of the dice.

Europe is the playboard. Opposite Boris sits a calm, professional figure, expensively dressed yet understated. Having once held all the cards, the UK team has had to hand them over, one by one, to an opponent who prepared properly and knows how to play the game.

The UK has one player left: Boris Johnson, the maverick who was parachuted in when Theresa May threatened to fold.

He sits there, gibbering quietly, trembling mildly, a single bead of sweat on the forehead under the artfully tousled hair. His shadowy opponent wonders idly if Boris is sufficiently deranged to follow through on his threat to throw his country onto the table

I’m winning, he thinks. I have little to lose. Boris is psyching himself up to risk everything on one roll of the dice. Even if he wins, I’m coming out on top. And if he loses, he’s out of here, knowing he will have ‘the boys’ after him to make him clear his debts.

Johnson is debating whether to put his house on it. Your house. Do or die? Do I dare? Who dares wins? One lucky roll and I’m straight. Lose, and it’s oblivion. The glistening drop of clear liquid slowly rolls down his cheek, as if he were crying over the impossible choice laid before him. One last roll of the dice, or – what?

Walk away from the game, having realised that you have bitten off more than you can chew? Leave the table, poorer but wiser, but with the respect of your opponent for having made a mature choice? Shake hands and say ‘sorry old boy, well played’? Will Boris blink?

It remains to be seen whether Boris has the balls to match his rhetoric, or if he is just all mouth but no trousers.

LIE OR LIE : Temporary Caesar of the breakaway province of Littleus Englandus, Boris “Mentula” Johnson, has promised 100 days of “Do or Die” games to celebrate Brexit.

The celebration, said to be the brainchild of the unelected bureaucrat, Dominic Cummings, is planned to begin in the run up to the festival of freedom known as Halloween, carry on through the growing wish fulfilment of Guy Fawkes and continue into the New Year and food rationing.

Christmas will not feature in the festivities as it will be cancelled to help pay for No Deal Brexit.

”It’s really just to distract the plebs from the wholesale sell off of their state that will begin at the stroke of midnight on the 14th of December,” our games analyst, Mrs Gladi Ator reveals, “there will be prizes for everyone forced to take part. Insulin, which you can resell on the thriving black market. Bread which you can trade for clean water. Clean water which you can trade for aspirins. Aspirins which you can trade for tinder. And so on. It will all tie in seamlessly with the realities of the post-Brexit economy.”

It’s thought Caeser Johnson himself may even take part in some of the games.

”Chasing the Fillies, an aged old classic, will be Caesar’s jolly,” our specialist suspects, “with fruity blonde women rounded up from the general population and made to run around the amphitheater with Johnson in hot pursuit.”

But who is likely to perish in the games? Without blood and guts there won’t be mass distraction?

”The car industry. That’ll be the first to fall. Then the pharmaceuticals. Financial services. All the big beasts will go down. And best of all, the people will have voted for it.”

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