Category: Global Britain

Forget those fears of staying awake at night with a growling and hungry stomach as Dominic Raab MP has today confirmed that HMG is going to stockpile food for No Deal Brexit.

”Well, private companies will be paid to do it,” Raab clarified, “I wouldn’t trust us to do it! You’ll all starve. We’re definitely doing this. Well they are. Never miss a chance to move public money to private coffers. Words to govern by. We can’t even tell you why we’re doing this Brexit anymore. We’re pretty much just dancing in ever faster circles behind closed doors and hoping for a magic solution that will lets us slash tax to shreds but not get gullotined. I’m starting to sweat before I even get up in the morning. Does your room spin when you’re alone too? Does your reflection swear at you too?”

The minister of state’s concerns come on the back of the observation that anyone in government standing next to prominent Brexit MPs like Raab has also starting to uncontrollably dance in ever faster Brexit circles. This has not gone unnoticed in fictional medical circles.

”They’ve dancing sickness they have,” Roger Poker M.D. told LCD Views, “it’s a form of contagious madness. They’re going to dance themselves to death and they may well take us with them unless they enter the end state of terminal dehydration prior to March 29th 2019.”

Can we play some variety of music to help increase the tempo of their dancing?

”Well, a classic album called ‘Official Opposition Party Like You Understand Today and not 1970’ would help them get to the fatal stage before infecting too many others, but no one has been able to locate a copy for a couple of years now.”

Dancing Sickness was an occasional plague in the Middle Ages and into the 19th Century.

”They used to think it was caused by ergot poisoning on grains bread was made from by the afflicted communities,” Doctor Poker explained, “but now we realise the cause is a government of complete and utter fucking idiots.”

The dominant force in United Kingdom’s politics has its shovel in hand today and is digging with the announcement of a massive expansion to England’s land mass ahead of Brexit.

”It’s to properly stuff the Irish,” Iain Duncan Smith told LCD Views, via a secure Skype connection from the walk in fridge he lives in.

It seems recent traitorous utterings by the jumped up ideologue across the Irish Sea has provoked mighty England’s visionary patriots to act.

”If we’re going to have an air war against the Irish, and the rest of the EU 27, having more land is the way to win in the air,” Irritiable Duncan affirmed, “more land means we control more air, hot and cold. It also extends our fishing territory deep into the heart of Bavaria. A tangible benefit.”

It’s believed under the plan the mountainous regions of Scotland and Wales will be pulverised and dumped into the sea surrounding England.

”Think of it as a massive boost to the economy via work creation for all the lazy unemployed in the subjugated tribal regions of the English empire.”

Work is expected to begin by the weekend with the army moved into the lower regions of the Scottish highlands to ensure no cattle rustlers turn their hands to thieving English shovels.

”We need to win in the air by expanding our land,” Iain reiterates helpfully, “Boris will be happy too. He gets to have his Thames estuary airport. Only it will be about a mile off the coast of France and a RAF one.”

Critics of the scheme have raised concerns though that expanding England so close to the European mainland will make it easier for young, fertile English breeding stock to escape after Brexit.

”It’s not a worry. With a pick in hand and hacking apart rock all day, before their fruit picking shift, no one under fifty will have the energy to build a raft and flee.”

But what is this exciting plan to secure our future called?

”Operation Bullfrog,” IDS said, “as we’re puffing ourselves up well beyond our actual size to gain a tangible advantage.”

Get your shovels England and get digging. Across the border. In Scotland and Wales.

A famously orange man famous for golfing more than working, but who often scores a hole in one for fascism when he does work, has decided to take the last shreds of a woman’s self respect as his souvenir from a U.K. golfing holiday.

”I wanted a baby,” the man told a packed press conference, “a beautiful baby. A big baby. The biggest baby I could find. They have very fat babies here in England land. Not many people know that. But they do. Let me tell you. Great big, fat babies. And they’re orange. And they fly. Who knew? I knew. You didn’t know that. Beautiful flying babies. You can put them in a cage so they can’t float away.”

But inability to capture a fat, flying English baby has led to a change in direction, moments later.

”I never said I wanted a baby? That’s fake news. That’s the lying, scum mainstream media lying to you. They lie to you. They really do. Day in and day out. They have me on television. I am the highest rating, sitting, hardly ever standing, US president on English television, and Scottish television, Scottish television too. I have the best ratings here since George Washington. Not many people know that.”

But what are you choosing as a souvenir if you can’t have a baby to put in a cage?

”Oh, that’s easy. Easiest decision in the world. I am taking the last shreds of Theresa May’s credibility, self respect and joy at being alive home with me. It’s already in the bag. It’s a tiny bag. Just the smallest. Like one of those bags poor people, who, let me tell you, are only poor because they’re lazy, too lazy to work folks. Unlike me. I’m a self made man. Small bag. Small, small bag.”

We asked the woman for comment on this but all she would say was,

”Under his eye.”

Then she cast her eyes to the ground and drifted away.

“Those traitorous remoaners have stitched us up!” shouted masses of gammon and key politicians who prey on their salty credulousness, as details of plans for Northern Ireland’s life outside of the EU were revealed.

”The bloody fact, bloody fancy, bloody avocado eating, bloody ooo I’m so clever metropolitan disconnected out of touch snob remainers were supposed to warn everyone what was coming down the line if we chose to tie ourselves to the tracks of Brexit,” Frank Bloody Field MP told LCD Views, “and did they? Did they bloody hell!”

At this point Frank had to sit down and imagine a restorative vision of a revolution, after millions of bloody middle class people were finally eating out of bins and the common man realised the racism fuelled bollocks of Brexit. And their political betters, while still their comrades, lived in the mansions nationalised after the fall of all that evil capitalism.

”No one told us we were going to be stockpiling bloody tinned food because no one bothered to work out how our food supply chain works. Whose bloody job is that? Some lazy fancy pants with two tone shoes made of supple Italian leather soaked in the sweat of children. I bloody reckon! Who’s job…”

Frank settled again. Restoring himself this time with the image of smashing open the temple of Mammon in London and using the recovered toil of the masses to buy Russian made tractors and feed a starving mass.

”And Northern Ireland to be powered by floating flipping batteries in the Irish Sea? This is Global Britain? The Tories are turning us into Venezuela, with my and certain other Labour colleagues help.”

Frank breathed in. Breathed out. Imagined Marx and Lenin and Castro holding a cake sale, before finally,

”Project Fear was Project Understatement, I tell you, and I am pointing the finger squarely at the bloody remainers for not being as hysterical as us red kippers. We know who to blame. We’re taking names.”

There. That’s reassuring then. Look to the future and watch the batteries bob in a gale in the Irish Sea as the lights of Northern Ireland go off and on, off and on, to the rhythm of the sea.

 

“No one has anything to fear,” Dominic Raab MP, newly scraped off the bottom of the Tory barrel, told a packed press conference in Whitehall today, “my department is moving swiftly to ensure red meat is thrown to all patriotic subjects of HMG post Brexit.”

It was welcome news.

And a firm retort to the week’s scandalous headlines fear mongering over food shortages from Spring 2019, when we all pull together to make kleptomaniacs and their hedge fund stooges even richer.

“Anyone who has ever driven around the countryside in the United Kingdom will know it is just heaving with fresh red meat,” Mr Raab went on, “and not just the cattle, ponies and sheep. The recent fad for safari parks means that even exotic tastes will continue to be sated as we make a success of Brexit. We have a bounty in the countryside and those unelected eurocrats can’t stop us dining. Taste the sovereignty!”

This is wonderful. A far cry from the days when that ageing SAS wannabe Davis held sway as Secretary of State for Complete and Total Insanity, or DExEU, as it’s more commonly called.

“Working hand in hand with the country’s safari parks will ensure that not many people have to subsist on dog food or grass. A small price to pay for once again being outside of the tyrannical grasp of the undemocratic European Union. Making our own laws for the first time in decades and making them exactly mirror EU laws so we can trade with the world’s biggest trading bloc. But being competitive by having every working man, woman and child free of regulations and on below subsistence wages.”

Ooo that’s lip smacking. It’s believed plans for how to deliver the lions, tigers, antelopes, elephants and other animals to the country’s dinner tables are not yet finalised, but soon will be. Just a matter of designing the “Taste Your Sovereignty” logo.

“Also, my department will be updating the Brexit Cookbook immediately so you know the best way to prepare that shank of big cat. Other measures will be edible Saint George flags. Commemorative Brexit dinner plates made of chewable ceramics and how to force your children to forage. I will repeat now, no one has anything to fear if they are willing to work.”

But what about the concerns over the lights going out? The potential for Brexit to shove the UK out of the European energy markets?

“The hot heat of faith and certainty of a price worth paying will keep everyone warm,” Mr Raab reassured, “never fear. In Brexit Britain the lights may go out, for a time, as we adjust to our new realities, but with the enforced adoption of patriotic blue British passports, the lights maybe out, but everyone will still be at home.”

Fantastic news for a worried nation this morning with the announcement that Jeremy Corbyn MP (Avocadoes, Smash and Placards North) has resigned from his cabinet position as deputy prime minister in order to fill the vacant shoes of David Davis as head of DExEU.

”It’s a life line for Britain,” an insider at Downing Street told LCD Views,

“Jeremy tendered his resignation from his voluntary role of propping up May in the middle of the night and demanded control of the department overseeing the UK’s self immolation by extreme ideologies,

”Lots of words and complete inaction are vital to make a success of running DExEU. It’s a long game department. He’s a perfect fit. Best of all, the new responsibilities won’t get in the way of his camping holidays, as he’s already got those booked.”

The sideways shift in the cabinet should calm the fevered brows of hard Brexiters within the government too.

”This will make May’s position more secure, be in no doubt,” senior Brexiter, Bernard Jenkins told us, before returning to his constant past time of burying the dreams of youth, “David Davis was another of those secret remainers that are all through government and making a hash of Brexit. But with a true believer in Brexit in post at DExEU, we are more confident of a complete crash out now.”

Why Davis chose near midnight on a Sunday to depart, along with Steve Baker, is open to speculation, so we will.

”It was the most gutless time to do it,” our political intelligence operative suggests, “wrong foots May. She will have just finished polishing her selection of power neck chains and be asking her husband to count their personal wealth again. She wouldn’t be expecting this. Davis is an SAS legend. You’d expect him to go out in a blaze of glory, at a time when he could face the press and be held to account.”

One thing is certain, when the going gets tough, the tough get going, as far away as possible from the mess they spent years creating and absolutely zero time planning.

We would like to wish Mr Corbyn all the success possible in his new role and wonder what other strides he could be making right now if he was actually in opposition.

The boss of Jaguar Land and Rover was left red faced and sweaty yesterday after admitting professional piece of chipboard, Owen Paterson MP (for being a piece of chipboard) knows more about making and selling cars than he does.

”It’s right up there with my recurring dream about turning up for work with no trousers on,” the red faced car giant said, visibly shaken, “a total nightmare. Schooled by Paterson? No one has ever said that before!”

The hard lesson in international trade was delivered to the boss of one of the UK’s biggest automakers after the know it all blathered in the press about the cost to manufacturing of Brexit, which he estimates at a nominal £1.2Bn per year for all three firms that comprise Jaguar, Land and Rover.

”It’s a good thing Owen was there to remind me that we can source exhausts more cheaply from an independent supplier in Patagonia,” JLR’s man mumbled,

“for years we’ve been modelling various Brexit scenarios and not once did it occur to us to factor in the ‘what if’s’ of the glorious and instantaneous free trade deals Liam Fox is arranging for the day after Brexit,

“I feel such a fool now. Just in time and just in sequence, those are the sort of trade deals our government will deliver to keep my business both in Britain and in the black,

“Hundreds of thousands of British workers have Owen Paterson MP (for being a piece of chipboard) to thank for educating me on the exciting possibilities Brexit opens up for automakers in our United Kingdom.”

In order to provide balance we sought further comment from the wise old head of British manufacturing himself.

”These so called captains of industry,” Paterson shrugged, “It’s come to something when a humble publicly funded zealot like myself has to explain their business to them. But there you have it,

“For two years we’ve tried threatening multi-nationals behind closed doors to get behind Brexit and push,

”Then we tried financial “incentives”,

“Now they’ve shown themselves to have weak knees and begun running about the press like headless chickens banging on about profit and loss, customs, tariffs, extra red tape, country of origin and all those other boring things great minds ignore, we’ve had to swap tack.”

And what tack have you swapped to?

”Jamming our fingers firmly in our ears and going ‘nah nah nah nah’, until they shut up and go away.”

In the latest farcical round of Brexit negotiations, a Downing Street ‘source’ has announced an odd new strategy, sending the leaders of the other EU nations each a DVD box set of one of the nation’s favourite sitcoms, “’Allo ‘Allo”.

Speaking at a press conference, he or she made the following statement:

“Listen very carefully, I shall say this only once. These bloody foreigners need to understand English, so we are sending them an instruction manual that any idiot can learn by, and if the frogs, krauts and eye-ties can all speak English in ‘Allo ‘Allo, then they can speak it to us.”

The ‘source’ was quick to deny the rumours circulating that the idea came to her/him after the other EU leaders all called him/her “you stupid man/woman” in unison.

“The spirit of ‘Allo ‘Allo is the true spirit of Britain and Brexit. It was about two plucky British airmen who were trying everything they could to get the hell out of Europe, only to be thwarted at every turn by a bunch of foreigners, held prisoner in various undesirable locales, before finally escaping in the end.”

The fact that the British Airmen were only very minor characters in the series was completely lost on the source, as they focused on them as if they were the only heroic characters in the whole series.

“That’s not true, there was one other hero, that Englishman who was disguised as a policeman.”

That would be Officer Crabtree, whose mangled attempts at French – or should that be “French English”? – were one disaster after another, and who could barely pronounce one word correctly in any given sentence?

“That’s the man – refusing to bow down to Johnny Foreigner. Why should he bother perfecting their language anyway? English is the only language anyone should ever have any need of.”

Unconfirmed rumours are currently circulating that they are going to test it out first on Donald Trump. Who knows, maybe it will even teach him to say a civil good moaning.

UK prime minister Theresa May confirmed Wednesday that as yet there are no plans to rescue the English football team which has been trapped in Russian cave for the past 20 days.

A spokesman for Downing Street confirmed that the team in question had finally been located sitting on a muddy ledge outside the Spartak stadium in Moscow having  been swept upstream from Volgograd on a tide of good fortune.

The spokesman confirmed that the team members and their coach are apparently in a weakened condition but otherwise in good shape considering the magnitude of their ordeal.

“We have managed to carry in a further eleven days worth of food and provisions but due to recent monsoon level downpour of nationalist sentiment, expectation levels are far too high to risk leading them out at this point,” he explained.

“Unless and until expectations subside to a reasonable level we will have to carry in scuba equipment and give them a crash course in diving,” he added explaining that it was something they would be familiar with but, will lack direct experience of.

“Except for the lad Pickford, he seems to have had a few lessons before and knows his way down to grass level already,” he explained.

Commenting on what sort of diet will be sustaining the team during their involuntary incarceration the spokesman confirmed that it had been planned to limit them to a diet of root vegetables, in particular swedes, but this was proving difficult.

“One problem we have faced is limiting their exposure to gammon. No matter how hard we try it keeps re-appearing; fat, clammy, red faced and dad-dancing like a drugged elephant at a wedding,” explained the spokesman.

One issue though has been resolved. On returning to the UK the trapped team will face a stiff grilling on their entitlement to re-enter the country.

“Apparently all but four members of the team were either born outside the UK or have parents who were born outside the UK so they will be obliged to prove their residence status before being allowed in,” added the official explaining that there were widespread rumours that illegal migrants may try to sneak into the country through unfeasible geological formations.

“Football it may be, but without the proper paperwork confirming its proper home, it’ll be “going” not “coming”,” he smirked.

The team is believed to have entered the cave system with their coach, having become obsessed with reports of a mythical lost treasure, mislaid 38 years ago in a similar cave system in Mexico, and which has become the subject of a number of bizarre Internet cults.

“Locating the lost treasure and re-uniting with the magical blue unicorns who guard it will help reshape the destiny of this country, and save its fish stocks, for the next 1,000 years,” explained former cult leader and leading piscine  fantasist, Nigel Farage.

The Belgian capital, Brussels  and most of the Belgian coast has been evacuated following warnings of a possible hurricane strength hissy fit by UK environment secretary and leading Brexit campaigner, Michael Gove.

Roads out of the EU administrative centre capital were gridlocked following reports that Gove had physically torn up a copy of the UK cabinet’s long awaited road map on how it plans to leave the EU without actually losing any of the benefits of being a member of the EU because his name wasn’t written “bigly enough, or in the right font” in the footnotes at the back.

“The aftershocks were felt as far south as the Pyrenees, and we have had to issue a warning of hurricane strength vitriol, hatred and mouth frothing insanity heading south from London,” explained Brussels fire chief Captain Guy De Haddock.

European meteorological chiefs have warned that this will inevitably lead to a tsunami of unwarranted claims, baseless objections, and untenable – not to say frankly absurd and self contradictory, arguments hitting the Belgian coastline within hours, he added,

“We’re receiving reports of uncontrollable fires raging on the moors north of Manchester after someone in the city dared to suggest to Gove that perhaps Brexit wasn’t all about him and maybe it could have some adverse affects on the UK economy,” he added pointing out that Boris Johnson’s feculent invitation to the EU negotiating team to “FUCK BUSINESS” was bad, but this anticipated “GOVENAMI” was in an entirely different league.

“Gove actually breathes fire and has been seen wearing a skirt…Frankly we’re terrified,” he added, explaining that most of the Belgian population was heading to the Alps, but he was fearful that even at 4,808.7 m Mont Blanc may not be high enough to afford sufficient protection. 

Warnings of the imminent destruction of much of continental Europe, were echoed by members of Gove’s own conservative party.

“This is a man so utterly loathsome that his own parents put him up for adoption before he could speak,” said one senior party official speaking on condition of total anonymity in a central London jazz bar.

“…a man who, when campaigning for Brexit announced that “the British people have had enough of experts”, despite himself claiming to be an expert on absolutely everything, from European border law to the minutae of WTA trade legislation, and despite being continually proved wrong on absolutely everything,” he shuddered, throwing terrified glances at the door.

“Frankly, even telling you this is more than my life’s worth… Michael could literally thcream, and thcream, and thcream until all of us are thick,” he whispered,  drawing heavily on a Capstan navy strength, between gulps of real ale and frenziedly denying that he was former conservative leadership candidate Kenneth Clarke.

UK Prime Minister Theresa May was unavailable for comment on the possible effect of the anticipated “Govenami”,  having been last seen heading for the government’s nuclear bunker somewhere top secret under Whitehall.

“Fortunately she had a second copy of the roadmap, so Michael’s hissy fit won’t affect negotiations with Brussels in the slightest” explained an official.

“Not that it makes any sense anyway. They’ve produced the cartographic equivalent of a satnav system that endlessly and repeatedly directs you back up Michael Gove’s kilt,” he explained. 

“Which is probably just what the attention seeking walloper wants – his bum’s been oot the feckin’ windae, fe years,” he added.