Crivvens! Jings! And Help Ma Boab! What the totally fuckington fuck were the EDL trying to do in Worster-chester-shirester at the weekend? Well, ain’t that a rhetorical question cos they lacked gusto, sobriety and support and were yet again told to fuck the fucker-rooney off by 100s of anti-fascists! Pre-demo, plod tried to stop local activists from holding a counter-demo in their own town centre but despite such bastitudes, 500 anti-fascists turned out anyway as cops surrounded the few dozen half-arsed racist head boilers for their own protection. For some reason the EDL woodentops started chanting ‘Sir’ Tommy Hopkinson’s name even though he fucked them off 5 years ago after milking their collective epididymis for every possible pence and shilling. It was a bit like a Labour Party conference chanting ‘Neil Kinnock For President!’ That is, massively wrong in a massively fuck-bugling way.
Seasoned anti-fascists on the scene shared a collective frown over what these irrelevant twat-baskets were trying to prove because, apart from hooligan-lite nostalgists who missed it all 1st time round, and the remnants of the EDL Violent Demo Re-enactment Society, everyone else knows the EDL are a flabby bacon faced irrelevancy.
Desperate EDL leader Ian ‘Smelly’ Crossland, a crusty short-arsed trouser-fouler, kicked off the speeches but so lacking in dental hygiene is he that the flux capacitor in the microphone melted and that was that. Which was a good job cos 2 of the scheduled speakers had been arrested the day before and luckily missed the public embarrassment that the EDL demos are these days.
As if to emphasise the fact that the EDL are now completely out of reality tokens they proposed a march in Liverpool which caused ‘soft’ ‘student’ ‘middle-class’ anti-fascists across the UK to choke on their halal vegan cucumber bagel samosas.
When we told this to ‘Comrade Cilla,’ the anarchist leader of Merseyside Antifa who we’ve just invented, she said ‘Oh good, we could do with a lorra lorra laffs!’ And we look forward to it as well. Will Smelly make his diminished band of bin-bag-shitters cower in the lost luggage office in Lime Street? Will plod even allow it? Or Liverpool Council? Hopefully, once Smelly sobers up and realises what a shit-up Saturday’s demo was, he’ll give his shriveled bawbag a rinse and stick it in the nearest socket to save himself the humiliation.
Be Seeing You!
Though probably not you!
And definitely not you lot!