Fuck the facts, I’m voting out.
Literally nobody has asked me which way I’m voting in the European Referendum, but here are my reasons.
I’m sick of seeing foreign foods like humous, pasta, halloumi and anything sold by the French in their chain Pret a Manger. I don’t know what they are, how they work or where they come from. I don’t know how to pronounce chorizo. I’m looking forwards to these foods being banned. Perhaps we can return to foods of the empire, so maybe curry is okay, but anything from the Middle East or South America is right out. This means greater sales opportunities for traditional British firms such as McDonalds and Burger King.
I’m concerned we’ll no longer have access to the archetypal European foodstuff, Choco Leibniz. I believe they’ll become illegal under Prime Minister Boris, so suggest you start stockpiling them as they’re likely to become black market currency.
I believe immigrants represent a very real threat to the British way of life. The way they’ve taken jobs in some of our most important organisations, depriving under-qualified, un-motivated British people of their rightful employment. I want the NHS staffed by sex-mad enormously-bosomed ‘British’ nurses wearing stockings and suspenders. I want the doctors to be either scheming bastards with no medical knowledge, or hapless fools tripping over whilst clutching comedically-huge syringes. But they’ll be British. The fact that immigrants represent a huge net-inflow of talent, culture and tax revenue is neither here nor there, they scare me and I don’t want them here.
I therefore believe we should take our lead from the incoming President Trump, and build an enormous seawall around England (and, yes, between us, Scotland and Wales — with a tunnel to Northern Ireland) which will serve the duel purpose of keeping out the sea of immigrants flooding our land, plus the actual sea. (Bonus!).
They all drive on the wrong side of the road in their stupid foreign cars. A Brexit will see a ban on foreign cars, meaning we’d all get to drive British cars like Minis, Fords and Vauxhalls.
Europeans are sexually depraved. Mainland Europe contains more topless beaches, men with pert buttocks in speedos two sizes too small, and olive oil-lubricated sex in all kinds of positions than any other place on earth, with the notable exception of the Isle of Man. Voting ourselves out of this casserole of filth will help return this once proud land to a world of resentful hand jobs and second-hand porn sourced from the lingerie pages of Kay’s catalogues.
We never win the Eurovision song contest anymore, despite the fact our songs are clearly better than what the Albanians come up with. Voting out means we no longer have to pay for this shambles, or watch those bellends tit around on stage for one evening a year. And who’s in charge of Eurovision? A Belgian. Plastic Bertrand. I rest my case.
One of the biggest British industries is arms manufacturing. Since the stability the EU has brought to Europe, our opportunities to flog items of death to our close neighbours has been greatly reduced. We’ve been forced to look to the Arabs and the Far East for new markets. A Brexit is a genuine opportunity to kick off some national paranoia across Europe, and a real chance for us to increase sales.
Cheese: Stilton, Cheddar, Red Leicester. Those are the three official cheeses. That’s all you need.
I’m sick of experts telling us we’re doomed if we exit the EU. I mean, you can prove anything with facts. When Michael Gove talks he looks like he really means what he says. Or at the very least, he’s been relentlessly briefed by a media and PR team who he’s paying well enough to make him sound like be believes what he’s saying.
I didn’t like Borgen or The Bridge.
That’s it. I’m off for a pain au chocolat and an espresso.