Category Archives: Brexit
“They said Austerity was over. Didn’t see anybody celebrating. They thought it was going to be like a War Is Over Lennon Ono anthem blaring out of the wireless and everybody dancing in the streets. Turned out damper than a squid that’s been dunked in a jar of tepid ale. Another pint?”
“But PPI, though. Nobody saw that coming and nobody saw it coming to an end either. And coinciding with a Bank Holiday. Last week, we had a couple of tourists in the Lickers. Spoke with a funny accent like that. I said ‘Who are you?’ and the bloke goes ‘Tourists’. I said ‘We don’t serve terrorists. Oh, you’re tourists. Are you both Taurus?’ Gin and tonic?”
“I’m putting on a Special on Thursday, which is when PPI ends, at midnight. Bit of a knees-up, Vera Lynn on the box. Miserable old git in the corner, going on about how he forgot to send his coupon in. He thinks it’s like the football pools. Then, when we get to midnight, it dawns on us – no more PPI phone calls! No more Angie’s Advice.”
“Boris up there, going ‘Oy, hold your horses, chaps, we haven’t finished Brexit yet.’ It’s not Brexit dividing the country, mate, it’s PPI. It’s those who claimed and those who didn’t. We all put up with the phone calls, but only 52% bothered to claim. The other 48% said, ‘No, we’re alright as we are, thanks.’ Now it’s over and nobody gives a toss one way or the other. Top up?”
“Anyway, you know what’s coming next, don’t you. Have you been mis-charged fees on your PPI claim?”
In an interview with The Strand magazine, which ceased publication in March 1950, Mogg (Rees) claimed that his habit was entirely due to the influence of a family domestic servant, who introduced him to tincture of laudanum in a final attempt to get him to shut up.
“I was just a skinny lad, never knew no good from bad,” he told Strand journalists. “But I knew Arkwright’s Patent Syrup of Opium before I left my nursery.”
“Left alone with big fat Fanny, she was such a naughty nanny, to be honest I think she only tried drugging me after strangulation didn’t work.”
The admission comes as Theresa May enjoys her final days in Downing Street, with a number of the prime minister’s Conservative colleagues vying to replace her.
Speaking on BBC Radio 4’s Today programme on Saturday, Mogg-Jason’s leadership rival Dominic Raab said he did not believe the admission would have an impact on Mogg-Rees-Jason’s chances in the leadership race. He said: “I certainly don’t see it barring him from this race in any way. I rather admire his honesty.”
Raab, who has previously admitted taking cannabis as a student, added: “It was a long time ago and pretty few and far between. I have never taken cocaine or any class-A drugs.”
“Mind, you, I am a total cunt – that might stand against me a bit.”
“Well he sounds like a boat,” insisted a haunted-looking ministerial spokesperson this morning. “You have to admit he sounds like a boat, and that’s definitely better than a company with no boats.”
Millionaire singer Ferry is currently enjoying a solo tour in Australia, and has presumably little interest in post-Brexit medical supply chain logistics, despite the fact that his son is a fox-hunting toss bag.
Nevertheless, the front man pronounced himself “delighted” with Grayling’s unexpected largesse, and announced his intention to spend the money on wild animals for his son to torture.
Prime Minster May refused to condemn the now psychedelically ludicrous misadventures of her Transport Secretary, insisting that Grayling is “the best man for the job.”
“Believe me,” she confessed. “I’ve looked at all the others, and they’re actually worse. He really is the turd de la turd.”
Many commentators have noticed that the mission of the newly-formed Independent Group is to be a centrist anti-Brexit party – a mission not entirely un-identical to that of the Liberal Democrats themselves.
“It’s only a matter of time,” insisted the Lib Dem leader, whose name we are quite frankly too lazy to Google. “They’re probably shy, being a new party and all, with us being so historic and respected.”
“There’s no question that they are deliberately excluding us from the most significant political movement in years, which happens to be exactly what we stand for too, just in case anyone has forgotten.”
“Or it’s just in the post. Yes, that’s what it’ll be. Has the postman been yet? Oh.”
There had been suggestions that the largely leave-voting population of the area might have some regrets since it emerged that they’re all going to starve miserably to death, but locals insist the opposite is true.
“Mad” Barry Renfield, spokesloon for the pressure group Workers for Famine, maintained that the Brexit camp in the area had never been stronger.
”Yes, we might lose a few jobs. Lots of jobs. In fact, all the jobs. But we won’t be losing them to foreigners.”
”Apart from in the sense that the work we were hitherto employed to do will now be undertaken by a workforce in Japan, but that subtlety has completely eluded me.”
”In any case, there will always be work to do. Picking scraps of flesh off rotting corpses with a charred bone might not be what we thought we’d be doing, but we support it 100%, and we’ll roll our sleeves up. If we haven’t had to eat them to fend off starvation a few agonising days more.”
“Yes, the young will eat the old, the wolves will eat both, and piles of ash and excrement will tower over the remains of our homes, but we totally knew that when we voted!”
“It’s not all doom and gloom anyway. I’ve heard whispers there’s a German company moving into town. Funny name – ‘Schaden’ something? ‘…freude’, is it? Do they make fridges?”
“No wonder she can’t take it off the table,” said domestic Rosa dela Marguerita, “I’ve tried everything, nothing will shift it.”
The No Deal is a far heftier work than The Deal, running to over 4000 blank pages.
“It’s lucky Jeremy didn’t fall for her invitation to talks,” said Diane Abbott.
“It’s obvious now she had this prank set up ready to tell him: Okay, there’s the No Deal, now let’s see you take it off the table. Then she’d do that laughing with her shoulders thing.”
A group of Oxford philosophers were relieved to learn that No Deal was an actual thing.
“We’ve been puzzling for ages over how something that was not a thing got put on the table in the first place. We made the mistake of thinking it was like No Cruet Set.”
Frame photo created by jannoon028 – www.freepik.com
The Moral Vacuum is designed to have 100% less integrity than rival products, and comes in cordless, bagless, spineless and gutless models.
“It’s a very simple concept”, explained one of the company’s senior engineers, shortly before packing his bag and high-tailing it out of the shitstorm his boss helped provoke.
“You just place the Dyson Moral Vacuum ™ into a country where people are struggling to cope with ideologically-driven austerity, and watch as all rational debate is sucked out, leaving the public debate 100% free of common sense, and replaced with whiter than white fear of foreigners.”
“It’s also amazing at reducing stubborn tax bills to nothing!”
Dyson’s panic run to the other side of the world comes at a time when many big companies are mysteriously moving their operations out of the UK. Sony is moving its European headquarters deep into the dope-smoking centre of Amsterdam, where apparently people make more sense than here, while P&O Ferries have just announced that their name now stands for Pissing Off.
“It seems obvious that when we’re talking Sovereignty, the Monarch should be the final arbiter,” said landlord Eddie on behalf of Harold’s informal polling group IMHO.
The group meets regularly to discuss global issues while drinking alcohol. At last night’s meeting in the Squirrel Lickers Arms, chaired by landlord Eddie Grudgingly, IMHO voted overwhelmingly to back a motion in support of a Royal Prerogative on Brexit.
“After all, there’s a fair bit of German in her blood and the Duke’s quite Greek,” said Eddie, “so they have a better understanding of Europe than far-right loudmouths in parts of Lincolnshire and the Tory Party.”
It was decided that a People’s Vote would be a waste of time, because everyone’s changed their minds, so the result would be the same as last time.
The group also supported a motion of praise for Prince Philip’s ability to survive an actual car crash much better than the Prime Minister fared in her metaphorical one.
“And the Duke,” said Eddie, winding up the debate, “is now single-handedly saving hundreds of jobs at Jaguar Land Rover with his recent order for a weekly fleet of new cars. He’s doing more for the British motor industry than Greg Clark and that’s a fact.”
As the meeting adjourned, members of the political focus group thanked Eddie for another well-organised piss-up in his pub, which everyone agreed was a rare talent these days.
Gary Anderson of Scotland and Dutch man Wesley Harms were contesting the Gland Slam of Darts, when one of the two athletes spontaneously produced a hellish eruption of gas from his non-throwing end.
As the stench of rotten eggs thickened in the sporting arena, a junior Brexit minister was seen to rush the stage, wafting frantically with a large piece of cardboard, while grown men burst into tears and vomited.
Urging the wafting minion on from the back of the hall was a mysterious cloaked figure in a top hat, shouting out: “Don’t let them get a sniff! They’re not supposed to find out what a giant turd this all is until next year!”
Sir Graham Brady, the chair of the Conservative party’s influential “1922 Committee”, has confirmed that he has received over 66 million letters of no confidence in the Prime Minister – well above the 48 needed to trigger a leadership vote.
“The letters had been trickling in from unhappy backbenchers and the entire cabinet,” confirmed Sir Graham, “But it’s really taken off in the last day or so.”
“It’s almost as if every single man, woman and child in the country thinks that Theresa May is a total fucking disaster.”
“In fact, it looked like there was only one person in the UK who didn’t write, until just now, when I’ve noticed we have a further disgusted letter, from a T. May, of Downing Street, W1.”
A séance held by the UK Brexit team has called upon Schrödinger’s ghost to help resolve the Irish border issue.
“What we need,” said Mrs May, “is a border that exists in the EU’s mind, but which is invisible to the DUP.”
The séance was delayed while HM Stationery Office searched their cupboard for an umlaut to go over the ‘o’ in Schrödinger. But the search was fruitless, despite a senior civil servant swearing blind he’d seen one in there only last week. Continue reading
A brand new Brexit Deal, drawn up by Banksy, will self-destruct as soon as it is signed.
The framework for the Deal is being kept a closely guarded secret, but insiders say it satisfies the demands of Leavers, Remainers and the EU.
“At first glance, the work lacks detail,” said Harold artist Beryl Blythe who was granted access to the piece, “but, when you step back, you see he has managed to stencil-in a solution to the Irish Border issue, draw up a workable plan for continuing trade and solve the question of free movement, all with lovely flowing lines and soft forms.”
With a no-deal exit from the EU looming, the BBC is preparing to switch back to analogue signals, broadcasting on a UHF channel in 625 lines, to help soften the harsh reality.
“We’ve still got a 1940s valve microphone which has a rich, warm tone. Coupled with the low image resolution of analogue broadcasting, we are ready to take the edge off the hardest of Brexits,” the BBC reassured Mrs May.
“You’ll need a Cathode Ray TV set and an X-shaped aerial,” says our media correspondent, “or you can download the app, Bygone Replicator, to turn your digital device off for you.” Continue reading
Harold’s children have been asked to stockpile bottles of wee, in readiness for Nigel Farage’s nationwide tour promoting the wonderful benefits of a damned hard Brexit.
“It ticks several boxes,” said Harold headteacher Alison Lee “recycling single-use plastic bottles, building community by working together for a noble goal and of course, expressing our appreciation for being royally fucked-over by an angry commodity-trading Continue reading
It’s the time of year when eight-legged terror beasts sidle into British homes every bit as needy and unsettling as Kevin Spacey at a youth theatre picnic. However the government are urging people to welcome and nurture the original and least pretentious web-based artists ‘just in case’ as they might come in handy post-Brexit.
“I’ve no idea what WTO means” agreed part-time village idiot Alec Fairchild today “but I’m sure Jacob Rees-Mogg has my best interests at heart and he is definitely not betting against the UK by setting up loads of businesses in Dublin.”
“Of course you have to have rules,” Fairchild acknowledged, speaking at Harold’s Squirrel Lickers Arms, where he’s pub-bore in residence.
“If Anthony Joshua just went round beating people up at random he’d never get anywhere Continue reading
A charmless woman, with few friends and even fewer allies, has gone to the country which invented charm to try and charm its President.
Theresa May, a non-stick politician, whose understanding of charm is limited only by not having any, has been to France today to chat up President Macron.
Mrs May, who promised no election just before calling an election; said there’s no magic money tree just before shaking a magic money tree and giving the fruit to the DUP, and claims to be a Christian whilst giving all the money to the rich is, unsurprisingly, confident she will succeed.
As a committed EU member, France has delegated its brexit negotiations to the EU negotiator, Michel Barnier. So Mrs May thought the best thing to do was to try and bypass Barnier and subvert the whole process by having informal chats with heads of government.
“The PM believes in the divide and rule principle” said Downing Street today “It’s worked so well in the cabinet that she’s keen to try it out on a larger stage. No, me neither.”
The sloth in human form, Theresa May, has said it’s time everyone realised that ‘the clock’ is ticking’ on Brexit negotiations and it’s now time to ‘get on with it’.
The PM is due to meet leaders of Austria, Estonia and the Czech Republic this week and will urge them to pull their fingers out. “Some leaders ‘get it’ and have been very helpful” said Mrs May “but I’m told, by those who know, that one country doesn’t even know what it wants, much less Continue reading
The serial-liar and self-publicist, Boris Johnson, has called on Theresa May to save his vaunting ambition to become Prime Minister by acceding to his ridiculous demands.
“Whiff-waff, whiff-whaff, ping-pong, fuzzy-wuzzy” said Johnson, addressing the House of Commons in a resignation speech this afternoon.
Whilst praising the PM’s resilience, he said that her Chequers plan would see his ambitions for high office in “miserable limbo. Which is apparently some dance done by blacks”. He said, adding “I haven’t actually googled it.”
Johnson quit ten days ago, saying that he could not support a plan which didn’t involve him ending up as Prime Minister
The BBC said Mr Johnson’s friends were insisting he was not trying to emulate Geoffrey Howe, whose caustic resignation speech in 1990 is widely seen as having paved the way for Margaret Thatcher’s downfall weeks later.
“No, Boris wants to be become Prime Minister by acclamation, ideally being driven by chariot up The Mall, throwing grapes to the assembled throng” said Brexiteer lunatic and Iain Duncan Smith stooge, Steve Baker MP.
“Do you want anyone beaten up?” said Johnson.
As members of her cabinet withdraw to pursue new opportunities and sharpen their knives, Theresa May has drafted in ex SAS tough guy Bear Grylls to help her survive.
“Bear has unparalleled experience in self-rescue, protection and combat. His knowledge of inhospitable terrain, and his ability to stomach lugworms is going to be essential as the Brexit negotiations enter this openly aggressive stage” said a Downing Street source. “The Prime Minister believes she can hold out for a good few months at Number Ten with Bear by her side.”