Fuelling the flames of discontent

I hate talking about politics - most people who talk about politics sound like they should be in a grotty sixth form college with a broom up their arse, and I include myself in that. And then you have the uniformly shite stand-up comedians who all went 'political' in the 1980's and were not funny then, and certainly ain't funny now. I'm looking at you, Ben Elton. So, as a warning to people reading this, I will be speaking about some political things in the next few paragraphs. Sorry about that. I am only compelled to write about it now because I am really fucked off.

You may have witnessed David Cameron's little jaunt to the USA recently, where he basically spent the better part of a week trying to insert his tiny, flaccid public school penis into Barack Obama's arse. The love-in was as sickening as it was cynical; we all know that Obama hates us for that Mau Mau shit, so what do we do? We send over exactly the type of weak-chinned, toffee-nosed chump who would have tortured Obama's relatives and then chatted to his chums about it over a jolly game of tennis on his return.

I'd have much rather Obama simply told the assembled throng of dignitaries in the White House that the thought that Cameron was a bulbous-headed little fawning tosspot rather than pretend he liked him. Although, the hyperbole was laid on so thickly that I actually think that Obama was being sarcastic. I really hope he was. Maybe we'll find out when he overwhelmingly fails to get his second term and has to resort to writing books and stuff again, if only to keep his she-hulk missus stocked up in red meat and egg yolks.

I've digressed a bit. My point is, that at one point, the vacant dickhead we have to call our Prime Minister managed to remove the silver spoon from his mouth for just long enough to muse how expensive petrol was in the UK when compared to the US. Cameron actually said the following: "The commoners who actually pay for their fuel we are all facing the problem of higher oil prices and that translates into the cost of filling up the Rolls Royce family car, which is very high here in the US but frankly even higher in the UK"

LOWER TAXES ON FUEL THEN, YOU OVER-PRIVILEGED, BLINKERED IDIOT. The reason we pay more than pretty much everyone else is because YOU tax 58 PENCE IN EVERY LITRE OF FUEL. In the USA, the average tax paid (which fluctuates by state) roughly comes in at about 35p per gallon. That's per gallon. Now, I know that US gallons are gay, and thus smaller than imperial ones, but you're still looking at about 8 PENCE PER LITRE. So, we pay 50p more per litre on TAX ALONE (not including an additional 20% VAT) than the yanks do. There's your answer, Cameron.

Now things have come to a head, with Diesel costing almost £1.50 per Litre, and fuel tax will be going up AGAIN following the latest 'budget'. Lorry drivers around the UK are now considering taking a break from murdering people to form blockades in front of petrol garage forecourts. And the official advice from the bunch of feckless morons who supposedly run this ruined country is to rock up to your local BP garage and stockpile fuel, carrying it in as many jerry cans as you can. So now, motorists are haemorrhaging their remaining fuel by sitting in massive queues in petrol garages across the land, blind as they are to the irony of their actions.

Stirling work once again from the absolute divs we have in charge.

3 comments:

  1. I hope BigLes has enough fuel. I worry about him/her.

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    1. I'm afraid Big Les is dead, he set fire to his gigantic face in his kitchen, trying to decant petrol into a hip flask whilst simultaneously juggling fireballs.

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  2. Oh poor BigLes. I had really hight hope for you two. It seemed so ...well... 'perfect'. A sort of mutual respect relationship over the medium of a blog. A tragic tale of mutual understanding spread over time, routers, modems and reality. A micro-biopic of the age we live in.

    I feel really flat now. Like when a character in your favourite programme gets beaten to death by a rampaging camel or something.

    I'll miss you BigLes. Maybe Hrrumph could write some kind of 'blogituary' for you. Sleep well BigLes - knight of the cyber-verse.

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