It’s 9:15 on a typical Northampton morning. I’m walking through town on my way to the bank when there’s a disturbance behind me. I spin around and suddenly the realisation hits me….. it’s giro day.
The top of Abington Street is suddenly a sea of Burberry-topped prams and pushchairs as the teenage mothers rush to be first in line at Greggs to get the kids ‘samfink gud inside em lark’. That’s right folks, I was stood bang in the centre of a Northampton Dole-day ****-pede –that’s kind of like a stampede only with less intelligent animals–.
As the masses flooded past me I spotted one girl who I used to know; who only a few years ago looked set to graduate University and go on for a decent job. Now she’s one of them. Hair scraped back and plastered with market-stall hairspray, two kids in a double buggy laden with cans of Special Brew to allow for a lower centre of gravity for traversing those tight Job Centre queue lines. What struck me more than anything though was the fact that she used to be quite a good looking girl; now I wouldn’t touch her with yours. Probably got a minge like a lorry driver’s breakfast as well.
What’s happening to our society? A society where an intelligent, good-looking girl with a bright future can end up with a life about as appealing as demonstrating a home castration kit? I’ll tell you what’s happening; there’s an epidemic. ***** are now branching out and corrupting others in order to further their race. The problem however, is that people don’t realize how easy it would be to cure this plague; it’s a simple case of taking a few elementary precautions.
Firstly, we need to approach Durex and make them release a White Lightning flavoured condom. The twist is that instead of being spermicidally lubricated they would be coated in sterilisation fluid. This would create an entirely sterile society of *****, eradicating the fear of future generations of ***** flooding our educational establishments.
Secondly, to control the generation of ***** who are currently littering the doorsteps of Job Centres and Town Markets across the country, we must turn our attention to one of my favourite cultural icons. People, I ask you to cast your minds to a certain Simpsons episode; anyone recall Whacking Day? On a certain day during the summer –allowing honest, decent folk to make a day of it; maybe bring a picnic– everyone would come together and walk united on one giant ****-hunt. Any weapon for ‘Whacking’ would be allowed –indeed encouraged– including, sticks, bats, lead pipes, ****-babies, etc. with a prize in each town for the most original ‘Whacking’ tool each year. ‘**** Whacking’ would be taught in school, focusing on Physicality –how to inflict maximum pain–, Aim –kind of obvious– and ‘Whacking Tool’ design –to optimise performance–. I hope you’ll agree, a fun day out for all the family.
Thirdly, and this option is reserved solely for the highly unlikely event of ‘Whacking’ not managing to totally eradicate the **** culture, we have the option of ‘Roman Gladiators’, with ***** being pitted against each other in car parks across the country. A fight to the death until only **** remains. This individual would then be buried to their neck and pelted with cans of Special Brew until dead.
Next stop Tony Blair. Let’s make it law.