The Great
British Barge-Off:
A Right Old
Palaver
So, there we were, stuck
in Blighty, where the weather’s moody and the politics even moodier. After
yonks of being run by Dame Bog-enough—a woman so stiff she makes ironing
boards look bendy—we were now gettin’ earbashed by her and this geezer Far-age,
who looks like he flogged knock-off motors in Croydon before finding his true
calling: shouting about boats.
Bog-enough:
Queen of the Moaners
Bog-enough had been in
charge for fourteen bleedin’ years, which is basically forever in dog
years and twice that in British politics. She ran the country like your nan
runs her biscuit tin—tight-lipped, suspicious of outsiders, and always bangin’
on about the good old days when crisps were 10p and no one spoke French on the
telly.
Her party? “Brits First,
Rest Can Jog On.” Their motto? “If it ain’t broke, blame immigrants anyway.”
But after all them years,
the public started thinkin’ maybe Bog had gone a bit stale—like a sausage roll
left out in the rain.
🚗 Far-age: The
Bloke with the Boat Beef
Then came Far-age,
lookin’ like he just stepped out of a used car lot with a fake Rolex and a
leaflet about “taking back control.” He weren’t technically in charge of
anything, but he was always loiterin’ round telly studios like a wasp at a BBQ.
His whole shtick? “Stop
the Boats!”—as if the entire NHS was crumblin’ ‘cos a few poor sods in dinghies
fancied a cuppa and a shot at not dying.
He’d bang on about
“invasions” while standin’ in front of a Union Jack the size of Wales, claimin’
the country was full up—even though half the high street was empty and the only
thing floodin’ in was potholes.
🛟 Operation:
Float Off
So the two of ‘em teamed
up—Bog-enough with her “Keep Calm and Deport On” clipboard, and Far-age with
his laminated map of the Channel and a megaphone.
They launched Operation
Float Off, which basically meant makin’ the sea angrier and the paperwork
thicker. They wanted to send every boat back with a strongly worded letter and
a packet of Rich Teas.
Meanwhile, the real
problems—like no GPs, no teachers, and bins overflowin’ like a student flat—got
swept under the Brexit bunting.
But who needs facts when
you’ve got Far-age shoutin’ “They’re nickin’ our ambulances!” while wearin’ a
tie that screams “I sell dodgy insurance in Slough.”
The Big Face-Off
Election time came round,
and it was like watchin’ two angry pigeons fight over a Greggs pasty.
Bog-enough promised to be even more “British” than before—whatever that
meant—while Far-age launched a new party called “Proper Brits Only”,
with a logo that looked suspiciously like a bulldog doing a Brexit.
They had a telly debate.
Bog-enough called Far-age a “pint-sized populist.” Far-age called her a
“Remoaner in disguise.” The moderator just wept into his tie.
The Punchline?
In the end, the people
were left wonderin’: Is this it? A choice between a crusty old jam tart
and a bloke who thinks immigration policy is just shoutin’ louder than everyone
else?
And while they were
arguin’ about boats, the real ship—Britain—was takin’ on water faster than a
leaky kettle.
Moral of the story? If your leaders are more obsessed with rubber
dinghies than fixing your broadband, your bins, or your broken NHS, maybe it’s
time to chuck the lot of ‘em in the Thames and start again.
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