Sunday, 26 July 2015

You Are What You Eat


He may have got Italy's trains to run on time, but when Mussolini was hung from a lamp post, no-one bothered to thank him for making the 16:25h weekday service from Rome to Milan reliable and punctual. It seems, as he swung gently in a light breeze, that his people were just glad to get rid of the fat bastard, whose successes in the last war could be noted on the back of a very small postage stamp. And when the crowd had seen the dictator lynched by an angry mob, everyone - except Mussolini and his other half - returned to their tables to finish their pasta and pizzas. He was gone, but when you've got a four-seasons special to tuck into, who gives a fuck about a fat wanker who couldn't have organised a piss up in a brewery - let alone win a war.

"GERMANY WILL BATTLE ON" screamed the headlines, when the Daily Mirror announced the death of this vile dictator, whose only aim in life was to take over the world. Angela Merkel may well be harvesting dreams of fulfilling Hitler's ambitions, but the she-boy from Berlin certainly won't have the support of her people. No - all Germany's population wants now is beer, sausages and football, and to hell with invading France. Angela needs her people to get behind her, but as the master race are fed up with shit storms and her love affair with Francois Hollande, she should watch her back - and indeed her neck, if she doesn't want to end up doing a Mussolini.

Two fried eggs, two sausages, a fried tomato, bacon, beans and fried bread: eating this, my friends, is the BEST way to start the day. Forget your croissants, cheese and ham, forget your yogurt and fruit salad, and just get stuck into a full English breakfast. The world will be yours for the taking, and life will seem so much better as you wipe egg yolk from your chin and you savour the flavour of sizzling bacon. A nation is built upon its people, and a nation is great because of its people. Yes - we may be crap at football and our trains may well run late, but there will always be bluebirds over the white cliffs of Dover, fish and chips will live on for ever and dictators, fascists and smelly girls called Angela will never change that!

Happy holidays!

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