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I won’t stand by and watch the country I love blown apart by a Force Five Fuckwit

A ruined Union JackHere we are then. The last week of Great Britain. After Thursday, thanks to an endorsement by a skinny, drug-addicted, tortoise-stealing comedian, this country will basically cease to exist.

Yeah you heard me. This is it. The end. Once Labour get in, Ed Millicunt has already basically admitted that he is going to turn The Treasury into an ATM machine for the idle and the weak. The money will all be gone by June, and then the banks will be forced to pay back the money they owe the government. Jesus. Can you imagine?


There will be nothing ‘great’ about Great Britain under Ed fucking Millicunt. I mean, asking the wealthy to pay tax. Actual tax. No, this won’t be Great Britain anymore. It’ll be Gross Britain. All of the unwashed and the unintelligible, living without fear of huge rent rises. Cameron’s right. It’ll be chaos. Pure fucking chaos.


And it gets worse. Not only will Millicunt be in Number 10, but that little scotch whore Nicola Sturgeon will be there, sucking him off every day, and using the semen to rebuild Hadrian’s Wall. A huge new spunk wall to divide Gross Britain, with Sturgeon taking The Treasury’s credit card back to Scotland to buy all sorts of rubbish, like doctors and stuff. What. A. Whore.


No, I won’t stand for it. I won’t just stand by and watch as the country I love, the country I’ve worked so hard to keep safe from rain, wind and light breezes, is blown apart by a Force Five Fuckwit. And that’s why, at 7am on Friday, I will be getting the hell out of here. My one-way flight to Australia is booked. I’ll be gone.


It’s not just me. All of us here in the weather trade have agreed to leave the country when Millicunt gets in. We’ve all co-signed a letter to him, explaining our reasons, with photocopies of our flight tickets attached and everything. And unless he agrees to give the whole meteorological industry a tax waiver, we’ll be using those damn plane tickets. Enjoy wearing the wrong coat on Friday, Millicunt!


So, this is it. Nearly a decade of weather forecasting, done. Over. It’s been a fun ride, I guess. There was that time I accidentally poisoned my ex-wife. There was that time I was imprisoned by those lovely Chinese, who are great people by the way. That time I tried to save the world using a banana and a virgin. Oh, and that time I ended Ken Livingstone’s political career. Not forgetting how I exposed climate change as a con, once and for all!


But all those happy days are behind me now. This is 2015, this is Gross Britain, and this is me gone, you gits.


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