Tuesday, 7 September 2010

nicolas sarkozy: the wog who kissed a dog and turned into a frog

as a true-bred englishman, to the untidy-state-of-appearance born, i can readily acknowledge that les français have much to teach us rosbifs about the art of chic understated fashion and subtly under-cooked cuisine - i am, therefore, utterly at a loss to explain our cross-channel cousins' insistence on letting their uncosmopolitan, uncoutured, unbridled racism go completely topless, or rather hang-out like a barbarically bulbous british bitter-belly...whilst, of course, we here, on the immigrant isles, are far more adept at tailoring the socially sophisticated cover-up...well, at any rate our multi-culpable middle-classes manage to put on a pretty good show...

et...ooh là là, and well bugger-me broadside, if la dear 'ole france (a rustic république oft-times ruled by cheeky-charlie frankfurters, nudist norsemen, and kkk krauts) ain't now lorded-over by a common-or-garden hungarian count - oh yea, les randy révolutionaires have now elected their own slick sultan of showbiz, monseigneur sarkozy, to join the razzadaz-ranks of global-gits and conceited-clits, exemplified by the likes of banga berlusconi and orgasmo obama...for, if the truth be told, the united kingdom haven't yet found a suitably star-schmug replacement for tv-tone, the over-glazed god of gogglebox-gabshite, although gordon the granite-grey-grampa did try, bless his blundering-heart...and err...who the fuck is dave?

so, basically, sarko the rotter has taken a sinking-socialist state of hypocrisy, built upon the fundamental tenents of liberté, égalité, et fraternité, and, in the same mediocre manner as so many religious perverts who have gone before him, has united a politically perplexed population in a rich ragoût of raw-root-racial-hatred, avec indigenous crusty old croutons.

first off, the petty-pois president bans the burqa in the hope of undermining islam and securing a slush-sainthood from pope bentedict the brownshirt...then carla career-melon demands that all roma communities be deported because their beautiful soul-twanging ballads make her songs sound worse than the ultra-sonic-screeching of a freaked-out hedgehog...and finally, with considerations of health and safety aforethought, monsieur sarkanova decides to have pregnant african immigrants dragged feet-first from their squats, with the honourable intention of repatriating them to a better standard-of-living in sub-saharan zinc shanty-towns - quite a generous gesture given that he himself got half of them up-the-duff.

par belenos, i wouldn't put it past the defender of the fanny française to railroad ultimate french superhero, astérix le gaulois, back to the sea of grass, kazakhstan - where the celtic warrior's original ancestors lie buried in their pre-historic kurgans.

...and one last little question: when nicolas sarkozy has sent everyone 'back' where they 'belong' - who'll be left?

answer: just himself and tom cruise - with whom the president has no objection to being photographed, largely because the short-arsed scientologist doesn't dwarf him into total obscurity. in conclusion, mr sarkozy, may i draw on the worldly wisdom and teachings of l ron hubbard, and assure you that your short-comings are not in fact genetic, but arise purely as a result of you being a complete cunt.

*nicolas sarkozy: la racaille qui baisa une fille avant de s'en transformer en grenouille.

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