Hello to my funnily-accented friends from various quaint backwaters across the Pond.
I understand that congratulations are in order for the multi-ethnic immigrant underdog Al Kemal, new Grand High Vizier of Londonistan.
Yes, the long shot has triumphed over the Career Bureaucrat, despite a few false starts and a campaign website optimized for and displaying correctly on no browser known to science or religion. We at the ol’ raincoaster blog are vastly relieved to be on the other side of the planet, well away from the anticipated violently uncontrollable celebrations of the cricket louts, the derby-topped swarms of bankers lumbering down sidewalks high on Earl Grey and looking for trouble, and of course the looming presence of his old homies in the Bullingdon Crips, who will now become quite impossible to deal with on a reasonable level. One of the most cosmopolitan cities in the world will be under the ruthless control of a small, formerly marginalized group of cronies whose life experiences fall so far outside the norm as to constitute positive aberration.
The hordes have already destroyed Boris’ website (which has crashed) and so the mob furls their umbrellas and moves on to Boriswatch.
Smashing.
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Well, well. Isn’t that special? Maybe Oswald Mosley will come back from the gave for a toast.
grave
fuck
go cussometer
I need to talk to him about these LIBOR rates. What’s his phone number. They seem to be artificially low. IMO, the banks setting these LIBORs are reporting false rates in order to increase the spread on swaps, etc., as well as not allowing the public the truth just how bad off these banks really are; not wanting to tip off the market that they’re desperate for cash.
and what is with this nonsense of bank bail-outs to be kept a secret??? The Bank of England has imposed a permanent news blackout on its £50bn+++ plan. Not even a Freedom of information request will get you that info, it’s not even available to stock holders. It will be kept secret even after 30 years, which would be when all but the most sensitive state documents are released.
Taxpayers will never know the names of the banks that have been supported through the special liquidity scheme.
What’s his number. I’ve got this and many other questions. *rant*
It’s a truly pathetic headline, now that I think it over, but what can you do?
diss, I think you want to talk to Gordon Brown, actually. He’s the one to blame for the various crypto-fascist policies of the Bank of England at the moment.
At least one young lady (and regular commentator) will be over the moon. Actually, it would not be surprising if she organised the electoral fairies to rig the ballot boxes! As the Brits say, “Pip pip!”
I would not have voted for him, but I’m glad he finally got what he wanted. If, however, it means he stops writing, I may just have to call for a recount and rig the damn thing.
The UK is a land of equal opportunity. You cynics should take note. It does not matter how direly fucking stupid you are, you can attain high office.
We may not have managed to find someone as stupid and inarticulate as the resident of 1600, but it is a small country and most of our thick bigots are already in full time employment.
See, this is why I’m already working on my proposal. I figure if the lovely and fragrant Melissa can get it past the Cameroonie gatekeepers, Boris will have no choice but to hire me.
God knows, I’ve herded enough sacred cows over here.
Also: why are you freelance losers not Digging this shit? Yo! The revenge of the Freelancetariat upon the MSM. And, like, Duh.
[...] Canada, long time Boriswatcher and uber-blogger Raincoaster worries about “cricket louts and derby-topped swarms of bankers … looking for trouble”. She’s not at her best this morning, my guess is that she’s been celebrating through [...]
Damn good win for the toff!
Just for the record — “smashing”, “pip pip” and references to derby-topped bankers (they’re bowler hats, incidentally) are so inaccurate that I could actually get, well, you know, rather angry, were I not a mild-mannered Brit with a stiff (steady!) upper lip. ;)
The next four years are going to be a blogger’s delight.
Unless said blogger lives in London.
P.S. You would, though, wouldn’t you? Go on, admit it. Hm? :)
Gary, I can see you don’t know Boris. He’s all about the crikey and the pip-pip and such.
lol… well, yes, I do know him and, yes, he is, but I just wanted to make it bloomin’ well clear that I’m not — and anyone who says otherwise will get a jolly good biff on the snoot.
(I am, of course, joking. ;-))
“Biff”…Is that English? I always thought of Biff as a meaty American preppy football player.
Boriswatch thinks I’ve been at the gin again, apparently. It was moscato, I’ll have you know. And actually it was pretty dreadful. Bloody Boris gets himself elected and says “Go have a drink” and does he PAY FOR the drink? Like hell he does. Typical Tory.
Your Grace
Sehr interessant – und well done
Yr Grace’s obedient servant etc
G E
“Biff” is right out of P. G. Wodehouse, so maybe the parents of said meaty American preppy football player were Bertie Wooster fans?
Possibly. There are a lot of them around, generally wearing blue blazers.
Garymurning – nope, you know nurthing; ‘pip pip’ was a reference made by Aerchie to me, Philipa, otherwise known as Pippy (or pip to my friends).
Boris does in fact pay for drinks, Raincoaster – in fact he made a special effort not only to buy my daughter a lemonade but to tempt her to drink it. She buried her head in my shoulder then later announced she loved Peter Hitchens. Tuh! Kids eh??
Well done Boris you star!
Your daughter has obviously developed bad taste in men. And so early! The precocious ones are trouble, mind my words!
So, when is Boris coming over with my lemonade, eh?
Philipa: I stand corrected. I do know nothing… but I am, at least, an expert in the field ;-)
Now there is something to put on your resume.
Don’t annoy Philipa, her neighbor and buddy is now officially important! Just for god’s sake don’t mention P-t-r H-t-h-ns to her and everything will be fine.
I wouldn’t dream of annoying Philipa. Not intentionally, anyway. With or without the important neighbour and buddy. ;-)
Incidentally, can I just say for the sake of clarity that my earlier comments were all written with tongue firmly in cheek. I have a feeling I may not have communicated it as successfully as I would have liked. Also, when you mentioned my not knowing Boris, I was under the impression you meant “know” as in “know of him/what he’s like etc.” I certainly don’t know him in the way some around these here parts do. Alas. :-)
What about C. H-t-h-ns, can I mention him? Cos I think he’s the bee’s knees (on the whole).
Well, raincoaster, if you don’y know that “biff” is English and you call a Bowler a Derby, you’re obviously not the omniscient oracle of all things Brit that you would have us all believe! Probably just a Wet Coast Brit wannabe, of which there is suffocating plethora in my experience!
Pip-pip! Archie
C. H-t-h-ns is awesome; it’s too bad his brain is totally gone now, but he does gibber most amusingly. I assure you that we understood all tongues to be firmly in cheeks around this thread except perhaps for Boris’ which has been firmly clenched between his teeth for the past several months, lest it get him into trouble.
Archie, “Biff” is either an American prepster and football player or it is the sound effect on the old Batman tv show. Like, duh. You can’t expect me to keep track of obscure foreign dialects.
And a bowler, my friend, IS a derby. Take it from a fashion blogger.
C. Hitchens does indeed gibber amusingly but I have to admit that I suspect his fondness for the occasional scotch does seem to be taking its toll somewhat. He can still run rings around his opponents, on the whole, though. Especially that brother of his, who we won’t mention. *wink*
Quadruple amputees can run rings around his brother. But C- H-’s writing on the American healthcare system brings back happy memories of the Trotskyite Popinjay at his best.
Scotch…thanks, Gary. I knew I was out of something…brb
Scotch… lol. I was more of an Irish whiskey man myself, before I joined the Sally Army and swore off the stuff… hmm? Oh, yes. Tongue. Cheek. Very firmly in. At least with regard the Sally Army. I am good with a tamborine, but the uniforms suck. No, I had to quit the plonk when my poor old stomach finally put its foot down (figuratively speaking) and said enough’s enough. I just have to look at the stuff now and it throws a fit…. Bit I do miss it, at times. It wasn’t as if I drank a lot… just, you know, often ;-)
Why, I wouldn’t know anything about that…
I’m a poverty vegetarian and a poverty teetotaler, myself.
Love your post and photo raincoaster!!
All v best
Melissa
Webmaster, Boris-Johnson.com
Melissa! Welcome back! So, does a rising tide lift all boats back to full-time employment, or do the boats prefer to remain independent?
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