Wednesday, 4 October 2017

Gobshite


Résultat de recherche d'images pour "picture of fat guy drinking beer"











"...and I sometimes wonder what winning the war ever gave us...yes please love, when you're ready, another pint please, and one for yourself....I mean we're no longer in control of ourselves...I blame it on those European dogs who tell us how to do what we've been doing for years...hello Bob, how's things...a pint for Bob when you're ready love...I mean when I was a kid it was pounds and ounces...you knew where you were with five pounds of potatoes...but what's five kilos of potatoes...is it more or less to carry home in your paper bag...because they don't give out plastic bags any more...the world's gone fucking mad as a teapot...lovely my darling, another two pints when you're ready...I would love to go to work....but what with my back and the influx of Polish labourers...they've stolen what's rightly mine...awful people...should get the next boat back home...leave us our jobs...I could knock up a wall in no time...and I speak English....ooh lovely, look at THAT...you don't get pints like that in France...it's litres over there...is that more than a pint...seems right to me if it is...can't stand the French....they won't speak English over there...that's the thanks you get for saving them from Germany...two more pints when you're ready love...every time I switch on the tv it's all blacks and lesbians...it makes you feel like a stranger in your own country...where have all the normal people gone...hello Bill, a pint for Bill please love...and they get free housing, telephones and bus tickets...I get nothing for my back...all I get is enough for two nights drinking in the pub...that's the spirit of a real public house...you know what you can do with your coffee houses and pavement cafés...I can't even afford to go on holiday...that lot have seen to that...and the pensioners are treated worse than that...a whisky please Bob...that's very kind of you...it's my friends that keep me going...it all went wrong when we abolished the death penalty...that was a green light to rapists and perverts...make them sweep the streets...they'll think twice about doing it again...tv has ruined everything...there's no more honest people left...we're an island in a sea of misery...nobody speaks English in my street..."

Sunday, 1 October 2017

The Last Immigrant


So it's time to wheel the barbecue back into the shed, neatly arrange the garden furniture and thank the Almighty one for giving us a few sunny days in what was otherwise a misrable summer.

Goneth are the last rays of sun as the rain clouds cometh from all sides. The beer was good and the banter was of Brexit, Trumpy Trumpy Trump and those damn pesky immigrants who seem intent on staying for free in our magnificent land of milk and honey.


A lot of those immigrants would give their right arm to taste some of the food that makes our country great; you know, food like curry, fish and chips or a decent English breakfast. Thoughts of fine British nosh must fill their minds, as they attempt to cross the Channel hiding in a refrigerated trailer or clinging on for life under a forty tonne truck.

The numbers getting in are dropping quicker than flies in winter, and those already here have probably had a gutfull of being spat at and shouted at by drunken thugs, fuelled by strong lager and patriotism.


"FUCK ORF BACK HOME YOU GRUBBY BLEEDER!" cries Mister Smith, from number 42 Willow Drive, Bournemouth - a town as British as eggs, bacon and fried bread. "WE DON'T WANT YOUR LOT 'ERE!" adds little Timmy Spicer, an eight-year-old boy who's well and truly into Brexit and all it means.

SPEAK UP ALL OF YOU!


He WILL build his wall and we will make Britain GREAT again. We will rule the waves and stand up for ourselves in a world of dodgy, spineless leaders.


There's a change in the air...and it smells GOOD!

Tuesday, 19 September 2017

If only...



To earn a pathetic wage, Clare now worked in Asda, in Margate, which is certainly nothing to shout about. Before, when she was with Deano, she had worked in an office in Canterbury, which was certainly better than stacking shelves in a supermarket in Thanet. She also used to drive a red VW Golf, but now, because of the situation in which she now found herself, she was forced to go everywhere by bus. It's no wonder, then, that on the day of her thirty-second birthday, Clare Green was depressed.



If only she could have turned back the pages and avoided doing the things which had put her in such a terrible predicament. If only she hadn't cheated on Deano, with another GIRL, if only she hadn't blown all of her cash on white wine and comfort food and if only things in France had worked out much better, Clare Green would still be living in Normandy. If only...

Extract taken from "Clare's Holiday" & "Those Margate Days, Those Lonely Nights" - a book about love, life and missed opportunities.
Out now in paperback and ebook format for kindle.


Friday, 25 August 2017

Do you speak English?


 When the pretty girl returned with more drinks, Phil said that he was starving. He then looked at the girl, and smiling at her, he launched into conversation with her.
“Can we eat here, sweetheart?” he enquired, as Clare looked on. This, she thought, was going to be fun. The girl shrugged her shoulders, as she struggled to understand what Phil was saying.
“Eat,” he repeated, motioning with his hands that he was cutting imaginary food with a knife and fork.”
“Ah, mais oui,” replied the girl, smiling at the tattooed beast, before putting on her best English accent. “’ere we ‘ave some fine foodz. What does it you want?”
“Yeah!” replied Phil excitingly. “We’re getting there. Have you got any cheeseburgers?”
Clare burst out laughing. “Oh, Phil and his cheeseburgers. How lovely.”
“Comment?” replied the girl. “What is this cheezburgers?”
“You know,” said Sarah. “C H E E S E B U R G E R S.”

“Oh, mais non,” said the girl, registering at last what a cheeseburger was. “’ere we ‘ave steak and frize or just a sandweech.”


Extract taken from "But Bloody France!" & "Clare's Holiday" - a tale about friends on holiday in deepest Normandy, where there's not a cheeseburger in sight.
Out now for kindle & in paperback.

Tuesday, 8 August 2017

Burgerland


With that hungry look in her eyes, only a beast of a cheeseburger could put a smile back on her face.

And for the boy? A meal with a free gift in the form of a plastic car or a spinning top.

YES! All of life's problems can be solved with such sickeningly appalling food, served by spotty students who can always be replaced if they're not up to scratch.

And on rolls the beast...
...on it rolls regardless.

Have a nice day! Have a good day!

Saturday, 8 July 2017

A Teddy Bear From Hell


With his bloodshot eyes, broken nose and chipped front tooth, it's no wonder that our friend's success rate with women is LOW.

Is this the man you would introduce to your parents as your cuddly teddy bear cum future husband?

I think not.

Image the scene: a Sunday afternoon barbecue, with mummy, daddy, the neighbours and a few of daddy's colleagues.



The temperature is rising as the sausages sizzle, and the teddy bear from hell has had enough of talking politely about the weather. He has only one thing on his mind, and that is to get merrily drunk and to hell with the consequences.

His beer-drinking skills are impressive, and as one empty can follows another, the teddy bear unleashes a tirade of verbal abuse at mummy. The rest, as they say, is history.

THIS SUMMER, AVOID UPSETTING THE FUTURE IN-LAWS!

Be wise, be smart and be nice.


Wednesday, 17 May 2017

Unloved


"Tony's had a very successful morning pickpocketing, and even though it's cold outside, he managed to brave the harsh weather long enough to line his own pockets with some much-needed cash.
Of course, we all know that theft is morally wrong, with one of the ten commandments telling us that thou shall not steal.
But as the boy rightly says, nowadays it's the survival of the fittest, and if the only way we can say stay alive is by stealing from others, then so be it.
Today's haul comes to just over three hundred pounds, a couple of passports and a season ticket for the underground.
Tony has already made contact with Glen, our friend from the other side of the river, to see if he can do anything with the passports. Glen said that he'll be over later, because at the moment there's a place in the market for identity fraud.

Somehow, I just know that this year is going to be a great one for Tony and me."

Dave Cooper banging on about his friend, the much unloved Tony Joy.
Meet these characters, and others, in The Londoners trilogy of ebooks, out now on Kindle.