But the best coverage was kicked off by that guff from the Mayor of France with his “maintenant, je suis il Londoner ici” nonsense. No you are not. WE are; you lost, remember?
Personally I don’t like the sound of the French trying to muscle in on our gig with all of this “ich bin eine chirpy Cockney geezer, ain’t I my old Dutch” lark. Fuck off and get your own bomb; this is nothing to do with you.
And this, too:
Ignoring for a moment both the stiff upper and lower lips of our Prime Minister which prevent him from talking properly, I’ve not noticed any Blitz spirit. All I’ve seen is what you always see from us lot in times of dire emergency and national threat – which is essentially a response of “do piss off you bloody camel-shagger, you’re making me late for the pub”. Blair could do worse than adopting a touch of this “Oi, fucking keep it down” attitude and less of the hand-wringing feebleness.
Brilliant. Bloody brilliant.
(A tip of the cap to Kim Du Toit.)
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Unbelievable. Fred Phelps gets even more offensive. I didn't think it was possible.
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That's not only not chic... it's incredibly tacky.
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