(above: 'aaargh, merde! ma wife made me anozer baby sandwich for lunch aujourd'hui! it's already ze zird one zis week...')
Dear people who suffer from the terrible illness that is purchasing a 1,000-pound photographic camera and only using the autofocus setting to take pictures of oneself in sepia,
I know it's been long since I last published something in this magnificent piece of online hatred, but as you all may know I was captured by the aliens and I was put a test tube up my rectum, so I've been rather busy trying to expel it off my body - eventually. No, seriously, I will not have internet up until the 30th, so I must go to the library and beg for some online fun as if I was some sort of 3rd world child from Cornwall or something. If you ask me, I'd rather admit what I said first.
As you may have guessed from the title, today I'm going to address my hatred towards the French. Actually, even I myself reckon it's taken too long to cover such topic in this blog. So, bing-bong tink-a-ting let's the xenophobia begin. Though, a little warning before we start - I shall not use the excuse 'I've got plenty of French friends' to make my argument look more legitimate as if I was a far-right commentator talking about homosexuality, because I have as many French friends as this man homosexual friends, nil. Don't get me wrong, I know some frogs, but they're just not my friends.
The reason today to talk about the French is simply because yesterday I read 'The Sunday Times' quite thoroughly and I'm full of anger towards foreigners taking our jobs and our women. One may say, 'oooh, don't pick up on the French, they invented the cheese... have a go at another foreigners such as the Scots if you have the guts, what have they ever done to us?' Don't worry, I surely will have a go at the Scots soon, but let us focus on the Frogs today, please.
Yes, they invented the cheese and, more recently, the brie baby - so they don't eat actual babies anymore -, but people often forget about other stuff they have done to humankind, viz, smelling of garlic 24/7, having a terrible accent when speaking English or not being introduced to the concept of cublicles in public toilets. It is fair to admit that in the past I have been accused of not having been in France at all. I beg to differ. I once spent an afternoon at an Irish pub in Calais. To be honest, I was quite lost that day, but still counts. I didn't like that very much - it smelt of stale cod and warm beer and the Scouser who was supposed to be the landlord wasn't very friendly at all.
I hear one say, 'but Crispin, will you stop playing on the stereotype? not all French are pure evil'. Firstly, who told you my real name? and secondly, of course them all aren't just pure evil - only the ones who come from Paris are. Nevertheless, something very similar to this will happen every time you ask a non-Parisian French where he or she is from:
- So François, tell me, where are you from?
- I emme fgrom Pagi!
- Oh, where about in Paris?
- Well-eh, fgom a village in a island in the middle of the Pacific ocean which used to be a Fggrench colony in the 19th Century.
I don't want to judge anybody, but they surrendered in WW2 and they smell of garlic.
THE WELSH PATIENT says: 'It was a rainy day in Montpellier. I was hungry and I spotted a restaurant. I ate a handful of snails. Then, I didn't need to go to the restaurant and pay for food because I wasn't hungry anymore'.
The reason today to talk about the French is simply because yesterday I read 'The Sunday Times' quite thoroughly and I'm full of anger towards foreigners taking our jobs and our women. One may say, 'oooh, don't pick up on the French, they invented the cheese... have a go at another foreigners such as the Scots if you have the guts, what have they ever done to us?' Don't worry, I surely will have a go at the Scots soon, but let us focus on the Frogs today, please.
Yes, they invented the cheese and, more recently, the brie baby - so they don't eat actual babies anymore -, but people often forget about other stuff they have done to humankind, viz, smelling of garlic 24/7, having a terrible accent when speaking English or not being introduced to the concept of cublicles in public toilets. It is fair to admit that in the past I have been accused of not having been in France at all. I beg to differ. I once spent an afternoon at an Irish pub in Calais. To be honest, I was quite lost that day, but still counts. I didn't like that very much - it smelt of stale cod and warm beer and the Scouser who was supposed to be the landlord wasn't very friendly at all.
I hear one say, 'but Crispin, will you stop playing on the stereotype? not all French are pure evil'. Firstly, who told you my real name? and secondly, of course them all aren't just pure evil - only the ones who come from Paris are. Nevertheless, something very similar to this will happen every time you ask a non-Parisian French where he or she is from:
- So François, tell me, where are you from?
- I emme fgrom Pagi!
- Oh, where about in Paris?
- Well-eh, fgom a village in a island in the middle of the Pacific ocean which used to be a Fggrench colony in the 19th Century.
I don't want to judge anybody, but they surrendered in WW2 and they smell of garlic.
THE WELSH PATIENT says: 'It was a rainy day in Montpellier. I was hungry and I spotted a restaurant. I ate a handful of snails. Then, I didn't need to go to the restaurant and pay for food because I wasn't hungry anymore'.
cherchez la vache!!
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