The Road to 1688

  The popinjays in parliament are fat from lack of effort as foreign gentlemen who’ve strangled children in a desert, invited by a German witch, come waltzing with their four-inch excited camel-prodders oozing heatstruck lust for more minge, past Bollinger-soaked Bolsheviks whose every judgement mutilates and sporran-jingling Scottish “nationalists” who dream of superstates to kitchens where they’ll cook up cocktails.

» Read more