Friday, April 04, 2014

Bloody sand Nigel, just like the immigrants, gets everywhere.

It is surprising that the enforced repatriation of the Sahara sand has not been demanded since it sneaked its way into the country - without a passport - on Monday.
The arrival of the latest illegal immigrant from Africa has caused chaos and confusion in the home counties whose last foreigner was a Frenchman flogging onions from a bike in the 1950’s.

Even the later appearances of Italians selling ice cream had not prepared them for the sudden swamping of all they held dear, cars and rhododendrons, in the arab-connected onslaught.
All of which provided proof that the warning by Ukip leader Nigel Farage that millions of foreign things were on the way from abroad was true.

Indeed experts confirmed that Saharan invasion had been launched across Europe and Brussels bureaucrats had deliberately covered their eyes.

France and Spain, not to mention Portugal, Jersey and at least one of the Scilly Isles were also said to have had advance knowledge as did several foreign-sounding ships in the English Channel.

All of which may well explain to the chattering classes why Nigel did so well on Wednesday when he slapped down Clegg minor in that debate about those johnnies.
Something has to since Nick had put his best foot forward for the second week in a row only to have it chewed off at the ankle by his beer-swilling opponent.

Further confusion arose when the BBC confirmed that although only 2m people had tuned in to the broadcast, 67% of the total UK population of 63,896,071 (as of 10.17 a week last Thursday) had decided Nigel had won.

With many of those on Nigel’s side watching Corrie, or Chelsea on their way to being slaughtered by more foreigners, some suggested the results were suspect until YouGuv bored them into submission.

Sadly the pollsters had not asked the 61m who turned down the chance to watch the debate, why they did not give a stuff. Nor did they enquire why so many of them - even without knowing it - backed a buffoon and a party of “fruitcakes, loonies and closet racists”, according to the Tory Party who thought they had cornered that lot. For had they done so they would have discovered Nigel is popular not for what he is but what he is not.

Nigel is not one of them, unlike Nick, Dave and Ed who seriously are.

Nigel wasn’t really bright enough to go to university so he went into the city, signed up with a few foreign firms, took their money and went to the pub. There, he learned that knowing not a lot about a little and talking about it put him ahead of the game, particularly when last orders are called.

Meanwhile Nick, Dave and Ed had also turned 18 but their dads put the fix in and shipped them off to that secret site many hear of but few see.

Oxbridge cannot be found in any map but is known to be somewhere down south and the place you go to work out which bit of Britain will be yours.

They teach how to be a Prime Minister or a prelate, a mandarin, a media magnate or even just somebody famous. But, they don’t teach how to be ordinary - and that’s why nutty Nige is suddenly in the frame.

As kids across the country are told the sand on dad’s car is the closest they’ll get to the beach this year, spare a thought for the ordinary - and they might just spare one for you.

Bloody sand Nigel, just like the immigrants, gets everywhere.