Jacob Rees-Mogg – instructions on social distancing for returning MPs (non Latin version)

“Senatores grata patria!”

As Leader of the House of Commons, it has fallen to oneself to smooth our return to Mother Parliament and one is resolved to ensure that as we do so, things are kept as straightforward as possible.

The last three months have been intolerable and tedious for us all.  Trapped in our manor houses, unable to show off our knowledge of obscure historical precedents or debate even the most inconsequential of bills, many of us have been obliged to do little more than field tiresome correspondence from ‘constituents’ and affect an interest in their concerns.

For one’s own part, being cooped up in a pokey 18 bedroom country pile has very much tested the mettle. At times the tapestries in the East Wing felt as if they were closing in and it was almost impossible to ostentatiously catch up on the life of Livius Andronicus, as one’s concentration was frequently distracted by the sound of one’s children laughing merrily in distant out-buildings.

As with so many other ordinary people across the country, this ghastly pestilence has brought considerable personal tragedy to the Rees-Mogg household. For almost three weeks Cook was unable to get goose fat and we were obliged to furlough the under valet as one simply didn’t need the usual quantity of starched collars. Worse still, in March two shipments of Chateaux Margaux ’86 were delayed and on one desperate Sunday afternoon, we came perilously close to running out of sherry.

But we are through it now and with life returning to normal it is time for Westminster to lead the way forward before the hoi polloi start getting ideas.

Of course one does not wish, in so doing, to put the lives of one’s honourable friends at risk and so it is imperative that everyone is up to speed on the new guidelines.

Contrary to what you may think, one has long been an enormous fan of social distancing as one has been practising it for most of one’s life. The only difference is that these new measures apply to us all, regardless of our standing in the social hierarchy. Yes, even you Mr Blackford!

Officially we are being advised to remain (ghastly word) “two metres” apart but frankly one does not wish to sully the oldest and greatest parliament in the world with Napoleonic metrification. So MPs are politely requested to maintain a distance of six feet, five and three quarters of an inch from each other at all times.

Debates will continue as normal, but Labour and other opposition MPs fearful for their health and the risk of tipping us all into collective lassitude, are welcome to stay away.

The new system for voting is so simple that even members of the Liberal Democrats will be able to grasp it.

How the queuing system will look

MPs will form an orderly queue of 60 chains from Westminster Hall, to the statue of Cromwell on the south side of Parliament Square. When everyone is assembled I shall blow my whistle thrice to get your attention and then eight times more to signal that it is time to move. Thence members will form in two lines, one quarter of a furlong apart and proceed at a speed of two knots towards the tellers. It is imperative that as you do so you maintain straight backs and a distance of 78 and a quarter inches from each other. If one has socialist inclinations – or a beard – I would request that you increase that measure to eight yards.

I have arranged for members of the household cavalry to position themselves two chains apart and beat a solemn marching pace on their drums as we proceed to our constitutional duty.

Having voted, MPs are asked to hop on their left leg to the nearest washroom wherein to cleanse their hands while singing all six verses of ‘God Save the Queen’ including the one about decapitating the Scots.

I have been repeatedly asked if the hopping and singing is really necessary, to which the answer is “Yes”.

One is very much looking forward to seeing you all during the new parliamentary term. If you have any questions do please pop them in one’s pigeon hole and I shall endeavour to deign to read them, but only if they have been correctly punctuated and written on vellum.

In the meantime I am your most trusted,

Jacob Rees-Mogg

(as told to Otto English)

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David Cameron – How I Destroyed Britain – as told to Otto English: part one of our exclusive serialisation

Early life

Before I could do anything, I had, like common people everywhere – to be born. In my case it was on the 9^th of October 1966. On that cold morning, as my mother cradled me in her arms, nobody could have predicted that I would grow up to become one of the top five Prime Ministers of the 21^st century.

After dismissing the names Quinton, Euripedes and Aubyn – my parents decided to call me Dave.

My early childhood was typical of most boys in the early 1970s. I played with Action Men, I watched Starsky and Hutch on the television – and at the weekends we’d chase foxes across the fields on horseback whilst my father shouted ‘Tally Ho!”

At the age of 13 I was sent away to Eton. Much nonsense is written about that establishment but it’s a perfectly ordinary place really. Certainly no different from any of the other major public schools founded in the 1440s by King Henry VI with fees in excess of £40,000 pa. Indeed in many ways it was far more meritocratic than the secondary moderns where my parents’ staff sent their children. Everyone was obliged to wear the same tailored uniform and starched collars and we all had to carry our own top hats; we played soccer football like other ordinary boys and there was even a black child there. Although none of us ever bothered to learn his name.

We were all sports crazy back then and it was on the playing fields of Eton that my lifelong love of the Arsenals was formed. I have followed that team’s progress ever since.

It was not always a smooth ride. In the months prior to my O’levels I was caught smoking cannabis while listening to the musical stylings of The Shadows on my Sony walkman – behind the tuck shop. After a bit of fuss and an apology to the beak I was gated. My other chums were not so lucky and one or two were even expelled. Although I deeply regret events – it did at least teach me a valuable lesson. Namely that no matter what you do wrong, if you keep your head down, give an insincere apology and stay quiet long enough – people might forget all about the mess you have made.

Brasenose Days

From Eton I went to Oxford and it was here that I became a member of the Bullingdon Club. My membership of that notorious dining society has been much criticised. In my defence being part of a gang of very rich boys, who smashed up places, laughed at poor people and then threw money at the carnage – before walking off into the sunset – was wonderful training for my later political career.

In between my studies I still had time to watch my team ‘The Aston Villas’ playing soccer and sometimes I found myself smoking marijuana once more. While I do not condone the use of drugs I do not entirely regret it – not least because it has managed to fill out some of the 750 pages of this book. Marijuana intensifies experience and I confess that when ‘high’ I could discover things in the lyrics of ‘The Bananarama’ or ‘Chicago’ that most ordinary people might miss.

It looked nothing like this

Career

Having left ‘college’, the time had come to find gainful employment. I was determined to make my own way in the world and so my father rang up some old school chums and asked them to give me a job. As luck would have it, I was immediately offered a position at Conservative Party HQ. Within five years I had become special adviser to Chancellor Mr Norman Lamont and was his key aide when Black Wednesday forced us out of the ERM. Mr Lamont is now considered to be one of the worst post-war Chancellors and a man who single-handedly destroyed the economy – but that is quite unfair. It was not all his own work by any means and it’s important to stress that I played a significant part in that legacy.

Norman Lamont – the greatest Chancellor Britain had between 1990 and 1993

Soon I was part of the famed Notting Hill Sect (surely set?). In between the endless rounds of cocktails, lunches at Kensington Place and society balls I still had time to get in touch with my ‘common side’. Sometimes I would go to the soccer stadium to watch my team The West Hammers play the beautiful game. Once when we were very squiffy on sherry, we ordered a take-away pizza! And on a hair-raising occasion I rode on the Underground Tube between Lancaster Gate and Queensway – just like other ordinary people.

Around this time I was also to meet Samantha, who was later to become my wife. These were hedonistic times, but having bonded over our mutual love of Elton John’s greatest hits and the film ‘Sliding Doors’ we decided to settle down and buy some more stocks and shares.

But I felt frustrated and worried about my country and its place in the world. Britain – so long in the grip of happiness, economic prosperity and progress needed someone to really fuck things up. My destiny was calling and I decided that it was time to become a Conservative MP.

Satirical content…… Part two next week

The Journey South with Captain Farage. Nigel’s diary of the great March to Leave – exclusive

We arrive in Sunderland. Just one night here before we crack on to London in the morning. I have chosen Tice, Hoey and Jenkyns as my team to make the final long march south. The world is watching. We rest up in our hotel. The restaurant is perfectly decent – a good wine list and the filet mignon isn’t too shabby.

I’ve always loved roughing it.

The view of Sunderland from my bedroom window

6.50 a.m.

Dawn breaks over Sunderland but as we set out for the rendezvous point news reaches us that the Remoaners are also marching on London. It is now a race to the South.

The world’s press greet us.

“Good luck in this!” The nice man from Russia Today bids us politely “our President Vladimir Putin stand behind you as you bring about destruction of the EU and West – he give you our personal warm wish”.

Such a refreshing change from the ghastly BBC who clearly think this important and significant expedition is a joke! The MSM would like nothing more than for our voices to be ignored…… as I say every time they invite me on to one of their shows – or in my nightly broadcasts on LBC.

Soon we are marching along a well paved footpath – just next to the A19.

A well earned drink after the gruelling first day

8.45 a.m.

The sky and surface merge into a great sea of paleness as Hoey witters on about her cats and Tice stares forlornly into the distance muttering “I thought more people would turn out” over and over again. We are joined for the first leg of the trip by a man who introduces himself as Chris819173 from Blackburn. He seems to think I should know who he is ‘from twitter’. Apparently I once liked one of his tweets. He seems harmless enough and offers me a sip from the large bottle of Strongbow he’s carrying.

I politely decline and ask him if he’s met Hoey. But neither seems interested in speaking to the other.

Then he produces an enormous crusader helmet from a bag and pops it on his head.

Good chap!

Chris819173 takes a well earned rest

10 a.m.

After a mile or so in the pelting rain Jenkyns starts to complain about a stone in her shoe and we are forced to seek shelter in a bus stop while she empties her boot.

“Come on Jenkyns! This is a race now!” I cry. “Can’t let the Remoaners win”. I also have a luncheon appointment at 12 and the reservation can’t be moved.

Chris819173 is further slowing our progress. As Jenkyns tries to get her boot back on, he starts banging his helmet against the shelter and shouting about Soros and Tim Farron. We can’t hear exactly what he is saying on account of the helmet.

Tice helps Chris pull it off while Hoey tells us about the time she went on holiday with Andy Wigmore.

“Such a gentleman” she says “always opens the door for you”.

“I’m just going into the bushes” Chris819173 interrupts, to the relief of all “I may be gone some time”.

It’s an extraordinarily noble gesture.

I quickly gather the rest of our party together and move on. Chris819173 has sacrificed himself for the greater good of my luncheon plans – much as millions of ordinary Brexiters have – and it is important that we honour his selflessness by getting away from him as quickly as possible. Jenkyns still hasn’t got her boot on and Hoey is trying to tell me about the time her cat Freddy “the cheeky one” fell through the roof of a shed and broke some pots.

By God! This is an awful place.

11 a.m.

“How much further is it?” I demand of Tice as we go up a slight incline.

“Just another 280 miles!” He shouts over the din of the rain and people shouting “fuck off you pointless twats” from their car windows.

“Not to London! To the rendezvous point where I am getting picked up by a bus”.

Tice stares at me incredulously, Hoey is now talking about “Arthur” and the funny things he does with string – she tries to show me photos on her phone despite the unrelenting torrent. And then – to my horror – I see Chris819173 emerging from the bushes 300 yards behind us. He’s lost his trousers and his pants and is shouting about the Rothschilds while swigging his cider.

“Run!” I order – and we pick up the pace – despite Jenkyns still not having put her boot on. Somehow Chris is gaining on us even as we wheeze along the path.

And then – just as all hope seems to be lost I spot the coach.

Thank God.

I climb aboard – and give a hearty wave to the rest of the team as I am driven away. Chris819173 has managed to climb onto the bumper but a couple of sharp turns later and he has ‘rejoined the march.’

They know I will be back and that my heart is with them as they go. In the meantime – God Speed – and onwards to lunch!

Don’t worry – I made it in time for lunch

To be continued……..

Satirical content – as told to Otto English

Ditherspoon News – Essex pub-chain owner solves everything ‘Brexit’

All this cliff-edge nonsense is – bollocks. All the stuff you buy from the EU can be bought in the UK and the 99% of the world that is not France or any of those other poncey countries where by law you have to be a Muslim.

I proved this point last year by running an experiment at “The Knackered Whippet” my pub in Essex. We took some of our biggest selling products, replaced them with alternatives – and guess what – nobody noticed.

The Knackered Whippet today POA

Stella Artois might be very popular among lefty establishment figures, drinking it in their Mayfair clubs but every sip is a betrayal of British workers. Stella Artois is a Belgian beer made by foreigners and I’m not having that muck in my pub no more. So we got some good quality British urine put it in a soda stream, called it ‘Harlow Stars’ and sold it back to them. Customers bought pints of the stuff. Better still I managed to sell it to them for 10p less than that Belgian muck. By passing the reduction on to the customers I saved them money and me the trouble of learning Europish or whatever it is they speak in Belgium. So win, win Mr Barnier – you muppet.

A pint of Harlow Stars – to go

What could be more British than a Hamburger? Almost anything! For decades I’ve been selling them in my establishments not realizing that they come from a little town called Frankfurt in – you guessed it – Nazi Germany. Soon changed that. Now the customers in The Knackered Whippet enjoy “Chelmsfords.” There’s a choice of topping – with a bun or without. The beef in those burgers comes from trusted suppliers parked up behind the big cash and carry outside Jaywick. They’ve got a great sense of humour those lads – when I ask them where they source it they give me this big wink and say “‘horse’ but you keep it to yourself big man or you wake up next to head of one”. Just love those guys. Real British entrepreneurs.

Bunless Chelmsford

We took our 2^nd best-selling spirit ‘vodka’ and replaced it with a locally distilled ‘craft ethanol’ made by a man I met lying on the street. He runs what he calls an ‘artisan’ shed in the toilet of his home. Normally the lefty luvvies would be all over this product – but guess what – because it’s made by a working class white guy called Derek they start banging on about ‘health and safety’ and all that nonsense. They’d rather have foreign made muck like champagne than the stuff Derek sells in plastic bags out of his garage because they hate this country, plain and simple.

We call it ‘Snogcar’ because the first punter who tried it ended up trying to get off with the exhaust of a vehicle parked up outside. It’s true that most of the regulars are now blind but that’s got ‘f’ all to do with Snogcar. It’s the EU and I can prove it. I just don’t want to.

Our success at Ditherspoons was such that I tried to tell Mrs May about it. But guess what – they turned me away at the gates of Downing Street saying: “Go home mate, it’s three a.m. and you’re pissed”. Even the coppers are bent in this country nowadays. And Dime bars aren’t called Dime bars any more either.

Here are some other ideas:

Insulin:

A lot of rubbish talked about insulin running out post Brexit. Load of garbage. Put newspapers down in your loft instead and invest one of those log burning stoves. Climate change is a lie anyway. Big con.

Backstop:

There’s an easy way to solve the Backstop. Tell the Irish to fuck off. Easy. Easiest thing in the world. Couldn’t be easier.

Jean Claude Juncker and the other lot:

The foreigners as I like to call them are all playing it cool at the moment. They’re all like: “Oh La! La!” and that as they drink brandy and eat croissants – but they won’t be laughing once they’ve sampled some of my “Harlow Stars” let me tell you. No mate. They won’t be laughing at all.

Satirical content.

Brexit: our part in your downfall – key referendum figures talk exclusively to The Prick.

David Cameron

People often come up to me and say: “Come on Dave, why don’t you go back into politics and sort everything out because it really is a bit of a mess since you retired. Now where am I driving you to today sir?” And I am obliged to tell them that the truth – is – simply that I have never been happier and much as I might be needed I have far too much to do. Whether tending to my lawn or giving the occasional after dinner speech or pottering about in the kitchen while I listen to the latest Mumford and Sons EP I am just too busy. The vote that took place on June 23rd 2016 is a very insignificant part of my time in office. In 50 or 60 years I doubt people will be looking back and talking about that very short bit of my premiership. I will be remembered as the PM who jogged, the one who reduced the deficit, who left the country a better place than when I came to power and who wanted us all to reach out to young men in hoods – and hug them. Tight.

Jayda at home

Jayda Fransen

It’s disgusting right because the Police have had it in for me and I was saying to Maurice that’s my Nan’s third husband that I can’t even walk down the road because I got the Police on my back and them people at Number 12 look through the curtains and I’m convinced they’re laughing at me because of that time I got off with Robert the guy at the whasisname the Burger King in Brent Cross and he dropped his chips and the ketchup gone all down my front and then that Sheena who worked at the Post Office before she had the twins laughed at me in Gossips Disco in St Albans and said I looked like I didn’t wash. *Breathes* And Brexit yeah they told us we would get all the immigrants out and that but they’re still coming across the sea and if you say that or shout at the Pakistanis down the kebab shop and call them all rapsists and child whatsisnames the Old Bill come round and they arrest you because its illegal now to be a racist. We should definitely not join the European Onion. Give the money to vets and other people what looks after animals.

Dominic Cummings

First we needed to get hold of Stronger In’s machine – but that was the simple part. Encrypting their message made it so fiendishly hard to fathom that nobody could understand it at all – including the Remainers on their own side. So along with Matthew Elliott and young Darren Grimes I built a machine – a decoding device that I named: “Take back Control” after a child with whom I had had a sensitive friendship at school. If you fed literally anything into this machine it came out with the same message: “Take back control!” It said. And that is how we won the war.

Cummings and the Vote Leave team in 2016 – Darren Grimes in jumper on the right

Jeremy Corbyn

It is quite wrong to say that I did nothing for the Remain campaign. I fought passionately for the country to stay in a Reformed European Union. On the 12^th of June – on my way to a conference on solidarity with the persecuted leaders of Socialist Republics in Latin America – I appeared (much against my better judgement) at a house in Darlington and had a conversation with a woman on the doorstep of her home. During a lull in the photo op she asked me if she should vote in or out. I told her that it was her decision but that on the balance of probability, despite the EU being controlled by the vested interests of billionaire bankers who probably wanted to eat her, she should vote to stay in – because that was Labour policy. Although not one I necessarily agreed with. But she should do that. If she wanted. Free country. Wouldn’t have been my choice.

David Davis

I was delighted when the British people voted overwhelmingly to leave the rotten old EU. Unfortunately since then we’ve been let down by politicians. People say to me: “But David – you’re a politician and you were even Brexit Secretary for two years – so don’t you bear some responsibility?” To which the answer is “No” followed by a big hearty disdainful laugh. “But seriously!” These annoyingly persistent people continue: “You were quite literally the Brexit Secretary! You had forty years to come up with a plan……. Yack … yack … yack.” The key to a good negotiation strategy is: ‘knowing what you want.’ Failing that use distraction. Never fails – hold on ….. what’s that? Behind you!

Sue left – at a major pro-Leave demo

Suzanne Evans

I never really wanted to go into politics. But I think I speak for most people around the world, when I say that I am very glad that I did. The UKIP manifesto of 2015 – which I wrote – is now considered a classic of the genre and the turning point in modern political history. The very model of what a great manifesto should be. My policy, which I came up with, of removing the Great Britain of United Kingdom from the European Union went on to make history. It was clear to me from a caravanning holiday in Normandy in 2003 that our relationship with the EU would never work out. Nobody could speak English properly and on one occasion – after I had momentarily forgotten to ‘drive on the right’ a Spanish man shouted “Cuidado!” at me very rudely, bringing back painful memories of the Falklands war which I had watched on the news in the early 1980s. Hundreds of countries are not in Europe. Japan does perfectly well. And Australia. And I don’t think it’s any coincidence that in both cases – they drive on the left and don’t speak Spanish. When the British people voted to leave the horrid European project in 2016 I like to think that a lot of them were teaching that nasty little Spanish man a much needed lesson. “Cuidado!” indeed. To me!

NOTE: Satirical content – as told to Otto English

Priti Patel: My life in travel – the recently departed minister talks family holidays, mountain trips and Liam Fox with our resident travel guide

What is your favourite journey?

I love mountain air and last summer, during a family trip to Israel, was lucky enough to catch a ride, as many ordinary tourists do, with a couple of dozen armed friends in an armoured convoy to an unimaginably beautiful place called Golan Heights. The view was breath-taking and it was lovely to chill out with the guys up there and talk about their fund-raising efforts for a new military outpost. Many of them are hard-working soldiers – just getting on with life. It reminded me a lot of the Mendips – but with more barbed wire – and machine guns.

Who is your ideal travelling companion?

Liam Fox is a joy to travel with. He’s always surrounded by such interesting and amusing men and has a lovely manner, particularly with young people. Contrary to popular opinion, there are some politicians who are without airs, graces or conceit. I’m one of them. Liam is definitely another and then of course there’s the wonderful, charismatic – John Redwood. Lovely John and I once shared a train to Macclesfield and we laughed all the way – mostly about how stupid everyone who disagrees with us is!

Disgraced former defence secretary, Dr Liam Fox

Are you a sun lounger, a culture vulture or an adrenaline fiend?

None of the above! I’m very much a people person. I believe that if you go to a foreign country on holiday you should get out of the hotel, away from the hotspots and just meet the “ordinary Benjamins.” The Prime Ministers. The military top brass. That way you can really get much more of an understanding of a place.

Dream trip

The great thing about Brexit is that once we’ve left the EU we’ll be able to travel anywhere we like again. I’d quite like to go to Belize. I know a lot of people who say it’s paradise.

What is your first holiday memory?

There’s a popular misconception that my parents fled Idi Amin’s Uganda in the 1970s to settle in Britain like ‘refugees’ or something like that – but it’s completely untrue. We are as British as Prince Phillip. The delusion grew out of my family’s love of travel. My great-great grandparents went on holiday to Africa in the early twentieth century and liked it so much they just extended their vacation sixty years. Sure my parents were born there and my ancestors are from India but we have always been British. Obviously on an extended holiday you’re going to make a lot of friends – so as a child we’d frequently go there but let me be absolutely clear about this. My parents were on holiday in Africa and were not immigrants to this country.

Idi Amin

Worst thing about travelling

Queues. They’re my bête noir. Queues at immigration are mostly the fault of other people of course and this is yet another reason why we need to slash migration figures. Another Brexit plus!

What do you read on holidays?

I’m a voracious reader. I love to read Facebook and Twitter. Possibly sometimes a magazine if I want to devour something really meaty – or a WhatsApp thread.

What luxuries can’t you live without?

Cigarettes. Lovely, soothing, warm tobacco. I don’t smoke but I love cigarettes. And the packaging was an art form wasn’t it, before the EU in their “wisdom” started suggesting it glamourised smoking. Ridiculous nonsense. People like to smoke without looking at charred lungs! Yuck! Get over it Brussels busy-bodies!

Brexit benefit! Queues will end as people stop visiting Britain

What was the last journey you went on?

I took a flight back from Uganda this week. I’d only been away a couple of days but I was deeply moved by the warmth of feeling towards me in Britain and the concern for my safety. I’m told ordinary journalists watched my flight from beginning to end to make sure it touched down OK! Imagine how good that feels! Knowing you mean that much to people – well – it’s flattering.

A place you would like to visit that you have never been to

I’m told Witham in Essex is lovely.

Have you ever been in a difficult situation while travelling?

A couple of years ago I went on holiday with my lovely assistant, Alex Sawyer, who is also my husband when he’s not doing his high-powered job! There was a mix up with our reservation so I decided we should sit where we wanted. After a bit of a rumpus an air hostess told me that the seat was “First Class” and belonged to somebody else and that I had to leave and sit in “economy”. Imagine the indignity. Well they were just about to call security to forcibly eject us when I gracefully volunteered to leave my seat – by myself – voluntarily.

Where next?

I quit my ministerial post much as I left that airplane seat – voluntarily. In fact Theresa May begged me to stay. She’s a great PM and I’m backing her all the way. One day of course she might choose to step down. It’d be pretty nice to have another woman in Downing Street, wouldn’t it?

Priti Patel – thank you

Brexit expert and twitter user “Dave in Chingford” explains why Brexit will be “easiest thing in the world.”

Twitter user and self-professed “Brexit expert” Dave Fowler, 57, of Chingford in Essex explains how leaving the EU is the easiest thing in the world.

The EU Divorce Bill:

Problem:

The EU member states jointly pay for billions of pounds worth of infrastructure, social programs, scientific projects and pensions and salaries. The UK is committed to this and our share might run as high as £50 billion.

Dave says:

When my first wife discovered I was sleeping with her sister and her other sister and her cousin Nanette, I was so disgusted that she’d been checking my phone behind my back that I just left her. No discussion. No second chances. I was out of there. And next thing you know I’ve got the Child Support Agency on my back telling me I have to pay £200 a week for the kids and that and I told them where to shove it. Also – she always had the TV remote and I never watched what I wanted and so I stopped the payments and then I got put on a credit blacklist and we hadn’t had sex in years but did that matter? No. Theresa May should tell Juncker to go fuck ‘isself. He can send the bailiffs round – whatever – we’re not paying nothing. Get this Jean Claude son – bang on the door all you like mate: “WE’RE NOT ANSWERING.” Problem solved.

The rights of migrants.

Problem:

Around 3 million EU citizens live in the UK and a further million Britons live in EU countries. Freedom of movement will end officially in March 2019.

Dave says:

Good riddance. Can’t happen quickly enough if you ask me. I can’t just go and live in my neighbour’s house can I? I wouldn’t want to mind as he and I don’t get along on account of my Staffie, Muffin, biting him. Now Muffin is about the most docile dog you ever saw and he sees this fella in his garden and wants to play – and goes bouncing over – he’s naturally curious – but the fucka starts running and screaming and that and Muffin bites him on the leg. And this nonce calls the police. Nark. He’d know our ways if he could speak English. I mean he can speak English but he isn’t English. Pakistani fella. Or Greek. Never asked him to be honest. It’s all changed round here since I moved in three years ago – unrecognizable. Nobody asks their neighbours their names. You used to know them all – in my case it was my brother Andy – but he moved out. Then these Greeks come along. If he goes I’ll be glad to see the back of him. People say there’ll be a problem with all the English in Spain but I don’t see why that should be. Send them to Gibraltar. They can live in Gibraltar. Problem solved.

Dave’s beloved dog “Muffin”

Trade and tariffs

Problem:

The EU is the largest free trade bloc on Earth with access to a huge tariff free market. The EU is our biggest trading partner accounting for 44% of all exports and 55% of imports. Crashing out of the EU could mean tariffs on UK exports of up to £6.5 billion a year while imported items could cost 22% more.

Dave says:

It’s easy. We fall back on WTO rules. I heard that on the radio. Everyone else trades with Europe don’t they – without any trouble. I mean America isn’t a part of the EU is it and they don’t seem to be doing too badly. When I left T mobile I got a contract on a pay as you go tariff and it worked out cheaper so I don’t know what the problem with tariffs is. Go to one of them price comparison websites. Problem solved.

Border Controls

Problem:

The UK shares a land border with The Republic of Ireland. Introduction of customs checks at Dover could create a bottle-neck with Tim Waggott, the head of the port of Dover, warning they faced a possible “Armageddon scenario.”

Dave says:

I live off the A1069 in Chingford and like any road it gets busy at different times of the day. If you go down there at 3 a.m. it’s empty. The solution to that Dover thing is to turn the docks into a 24 hour a day operation and not have everyone going at the same time. As for the Northern Ireland thing I’ve never been to Northern Ireland on the road and I don’t know anyone who has so what’s the problem? I’ll tell you the answer in five words. There isn’t one.

Dave’s final thought.

Nothing gets on my tits like media scum on MSM saying people like me don’t understand Brexit. For ninety years the UK was governed directly by the faceless Marxist unelected bureaucrats in Berlin. Nigel Farage got elected President on a promise of ending that and he now has. We have taken back control from the USSR and done it just like we done at Dunkirk – without a single drop of blood being spilt. My great uncle Barry was in the British army in the 1970s in Cyprus and his sacrifice for our todays and tomorrows cannot be forgotten – as I often tell him when we have a pint. Britain can be great again and it will be the envy of the world for escaping the clutches of a foreign power what has ruined our way of life. The EU will no more impose on us the transgender community’s demands for Sharia law in the work place and windfarms and that. God save the Queen.

My DIY: this week Donald Trump talks about his favorite Home Improvement projects

Are you an active DIY-er?

I love Home Improvement. It’s a beautiful thing to paint a door or build a cabinet and then look at it and think I did that. I built that. It’s a cabinet I built and it’s a beautiful cabinet.

Do you build anything else other than cabinets?

I’ll tell you the truth. I’ve never built a cabinet. I never said that. If you look at your notes. Fake news! Fake interviewer. You have sensational legs by the way and that isn’t sexist. It’s OK to tell someone they have good legs.  If I told a giraffe it had good legs would that be sexist? Of course not. I have a cabinet. It’s a solid – it’s a teak cabinet which by the way also has sensational legs. Is that sexist? No. I have it and it goes everywhere with me. But I did not build the cabinet. I was given it by Steven Seagal – who by the way also has terrific legs. I can appreciate his sexuality even if I am not attracted to him just as I can a giraffe. When two powerful individuals who have made millions out of their respective careers meet – you can expect a sexual dynamic. Unless you’re an asexual of course. I can tell you that Steven Seagal is not. He’s so un-asexual. Terrific guy. Big personality. Huge star. Loves to build cabinets.

A complete shutdown of muslin

What is the biggest Home Improvement Project you’ve worked on recently?

I moved to the White House and you know the problem with the White House is that literally everything in it is white. White walls. White busts. Lovely white busts. I love white. White is under threat. Have you heard about “white genocide?” It’s a thing. But I believe in diversity as well. And there are all these curtains – drapes – very long and I kept tripping over them and I said to Steve Bannon who was my Strategist when I moved in – great guy Steve by the way – philanthropist and humanitarian but the best thing about him is he stands very straight. Beautiful posture. I said: “Steve what is all this white fabric? I keep tripping over it.” And he goes: “Muslin Mr President” and I said “I want a complete shutdown of muslin until we’ve decided whether it is safe..”

Who are your biggest design inspirations?

Melania is an incredible designer.  She’s got an eye. Two eyes in fact. One on either side of her nose. Incredibly talented woman and my wife and she has two eyes. You don’t get much better than that. Although you’d never see that in the Washington Post by the way.

Great writer Genesis – talented guy – should have written more.

What is your favourite period in architecture?

Las Vegas. I don’t know what that period is exactly, but the architecture is incredible. Built by the Italians of course. A lot of people might say Roman architecture but when you’ve been to the Strip you can see immediately that the Italians are better. Good people. A great, great people. The Romans on the other hand were terrible at construction. I was in Scotland, where I have a lot of business and a lot of friends and I heard about this Hadrian’s wall on the border with England and so we drove down there and the way they had done it – just very disappointing and literally falling down. Whole sections missing. I said to the folks I was with: “that has to be the worst wall I ever saw.” When you’ve been in construction as long as I have you can tell instantly whether the quality is there. I said there and then: “one day I will build a better wall than this – and I will make Mexico pay for it.”

What is your favourite building?

A lot of people might expect me to say Trump Tower but actually it’s the home where I grew up. It was a modest place in Brooklyn. Just 9 bedrooms and a six acre garden but we made up for what we didn’t have by filling the place with love. Not love between family members which by the way is something which is illegal. I’m really rich now but back then we were just an ordinary rich family. We had books. We had a Bible. The Bible is the most special book of those books and I would often read the Bible. Great, great book. Fantastic read. You never hear the guys in the MSN talk up the Bible. Never hear about that on CNN.

Is there any Home Improvement skill you wish you had?

There was this one story. I think it’s by Genesis. Great writer Genesis – talented guy – should have written more. Anyway one of the stories is about the Tower of Babel. You know that story? These folks build a tower – I don’t know where – somewhere in the Mid-East I guess and God gets very angry. “Why have you built that Tower without my planning consent?” You know – and the little guys just get on with it – these downtrodden blue-collar people who just want a break and a job and to make a few bucks building a Tower. And you know what God does? He destroys it. Knocks it down and then makes everyone dumb and speak a load of languages. A lot of people ask me why I went into politics. Read Genesis and see. Great writer. Incredible guy. I want to help the little people build those towers and walls. And not have God knock them down. That’s my DIY philosophy.

Mr President – thank you.

The Book of Brexit – the humiliation of St Theresa

And at that time there was great uncertainty across the land – and there was talk of a new teacher who would deliver the children from the yoke. And a man, whose name was Nigel, came out of the wilderness and began to preach and gathered crowds and made a lot of empty promises while talking in riddles that did not make sense.

He was not that Light but was sent to bear witness to that Light. And people said: “What is this light you speak of?” And he said: “Lo – it is the Kingdom of Brexit and it is more a shade of dark blue – though there are those who argue that it is black.”

And after a while later he said: “I shall leave you now and go to see if I might get a job with the Fox network – but there standeth among you a woman, not a leadsom, who will deliver it instead and grant you the Kingdom while I shout abuse from the other side of the lake.”

And he was taken away, but his spirit remained, on LBC and occasionally BBC question time.

And the people were afraid and wondered at what they had done and then – as foretold by Nigel a woman appeared – Theresa, the daughter of Hubert and she began to preach among the people of Albion in a dry and flat voice.

And once when they were all gathered at their devices, she told her disciples “Brexit means Brexit” and the crowd asked of her “but what does that mean?” And she repeated again “Brexit means Brexit” but her followers remained none the wiser and so asked a third time: “But seriously what does it mean?” And she remained silent and did underwhelm them.

And Theresa did endeavour to deliver this thing which nobody really understood, least of all herself and the Faragsees began to murmur among themselves that this “woman will not deliver.”

Now among the disciples closest to her was a man, Boris the Shifty and he doubted her words and looked down on her as ‘not really being our sort of chap’ while publicly saying he did not and saw an opportunity to filleth the inches of his column and the wages of his sin and the night before the party conference she turned to him and said:

“Before this week is over you will have betrayed me 30 times.”

And he did look at her with pity in his eyes and say: “You clearly underestimate my aptitude for disloyalty.”

And he did go to the Faragees and plot but really it was not necessary for her fate had been written from the beginning by her startling ineptitude.

The day of her humiliation dawned with much expectation – and she was taken to a place they called The Manchester Central Conference centre – which means the place of the skull – and she was taunted and mocked by a man with a P45 and as the guards led him away she spluttered and said:

“Blessed are the childless women….” Before starting to cough really badly and again she started saying something about “the British Dream….” and how “places for 3 and 4 year olds have doubled under this government.” But her voice ran dry and she cried out for water which was given and the social media did mock her and she did cry out a fourth time in desperation: “in the 1970s it was scientists in Oxford who invented lithium batteries that make mobile telephones work.”

And the crowd did shake their heads.

And wonder.

And when her humiliation was finished, they cut her down from the podium and took her away and at that moment the great opinion in the Temple split in two and the Earth opened and the people were even more afraid and wished that none of this crap had happened in the first place.

Exclusive: “Rees-Mogg” talks chlorinated chicken, Moggmentum, Vince Cable and misery

“Jacob Rees-Mogg” answers our questionnaire:

__1.__What is your idea of perfect happiness?

Lunch surrounded by one’s family. Sunday lunch is a quintessential part of any Englishman’s weekly routine and one of the many benefits of Brexit is that we will soon, once again, have chlorinated chicken firmly back on the menu. It is perfectly safe of course. Indeed, as anyone with a General Certificate in Chemistry could tell you it is not only safe, but adds a dulcet “swimming pool” aroma to one’s meal. Since the EU banned it, one has been obliged to add one’s own chlorine at meal times.

 __2.__On what occasions do you lie?

One never lies. One reclines.

__3.__What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?

Aξίωση

__4.__What is the trait you most deplore in others?

Ever since the EU Referendum last year, one section of our country has been mired in chumpery. A cottage industry has grown out of misery and doom-mongery – as liberal types busy themselves in newspaper columns and wireless interviews, accusing the government of being directionless, or pointing to the crashing pound and spiralling inflation and saying it was all a beastly idea to leave the EU. Balderdash of course for on the contrary, the Brexit negotiations have been trotting along very happily indeed. Our position is clear.  We want everything we have already, along with all the other things that we don’t have and we don’t want to pay a penny for it.

__5.__What is your greatest extravagance?

One lives a very frugal life. The upkeep of the Bentley is one’s gift to future generations and thus not so much an extravagance, more a public duty. I suppose one could have one or two fewer homes and a smaller number of servants, but good staff are very hard to come by and take years of training so I see their employ as a long term investment.  One does not want to be accused of overindulgence however and so last year when we took a rare family holiday to California I did ensure that the children and nanny flew in business class. It is essential that one’s offspring meet ordinary people now and then.

__7.__What is your current state of mind?

I am thrilled at the prospect of us leaving the EU. As the Chinese economy continues to boom, the sweat factories of South East Asia will need to move somewhere else and once rid of all that silly health and safety legislation I can envisage a bright future for Britain making cheap plastic toys for global markets. Brexit will undoubtedly have short term consequences on our imports and as we rely on the EU for so much of our food there will perhaps be a period of readjustment. This could be a very good thing. It is my hope that a system of rationing could be introduced – to make sure that the working man has a healthier diet. This in turn could resolve our current “obesity epidemic.” If one looks at photographs of chaps during the Blitz very few of them are “fat.” There is a good reason for that. There was no food.

__8.__What is your ambition?

One is very flattered to be touted about as the “Prime Minister in waiting” but it is all simply a bit of fun. That said, if the nation were to demand it of one it would be very bad manners to refuse. One is not measuring the curtains just yet however as that is the job of a qualified seamstress.

__9.__What do you consider the most overrated virtue?

Tolerance. One of the great comforts of a Catholic upbringing is that one can merrily go about the place condemning other life-styles without having to sign up to the preposterous notion of “political correctness.” Take abortion for example. One frequently meets tiresome characters who say things along the lines of “but the Bible doesn’t mention abortion” or “where in the good book does it say that one should persecute homosexuals?” People are entitled to think whatsoever they might like of course, but in both cases they are entirely missing the point. Church is much like one’s school, in that while the rules and traditions might make no sense whatsoever, they exist, have done so for many years and should thus be respected and preserved that they might be passed on to the next generation.

__10.__Which living person do you most despise?

“Vince” Cable who is undoubtedly the most dangerous man in the world at the moment. One should be very wary indeed of the sort of chap who goes on caravanning holidays and has an “en suite” in his “loft extension.”

__12.__What qualities do you most like in a man?

A well-made suit and a natural aversion to kedgeree.

__13.__What is the quality you most like in a woman?

A propensity for silence.

__14.__Which words or phrases do you most overuse?

“Do you have any lopado­temacho­selacho­galeo­kranio­leipsano­drim­hypo­trimmato­silphio­parao­melito­katakechy­meno­kichl­epi­kossypho­phatto­perister­alektryon­opte­kephallio­kigklo­peleio­lagoio­siraio­baphe­tragano­pterygon on the menu?” They rarely do.

 __15.__What or who is the greatest love of your life?

Continentals might fall in love; Englishmen have stout socks and long underwear to prevent against that sort of thing.

__16.__When and where were you happiest?

Happiness is terribly déclassé.

__17.__What is your most treasured possession?

Nanny.

__18.__What do you most value in your friends?

Fortitude. Many good chums suffered terrible hardships after the economic crash in 2008. In some cases they had to let good staff go, or close up entire wings of their homes during the winter months. There is much talk of the squeezed middle classes, but this is a dreadful calumny against the travails of the squeezed upper classes. One has heard distressing tales of children being sent to second eleven public schools, or being obliged to drink non-vintage wine.  One good friend was obliged to budget for his annual holiday in Bali – by “saving up.” We haven’t spoken since, lest the whole ghastly experience embarrass him.

__23.__What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?

One has never known misery. Sadness perhaps. Of course like all children I was a little home sick when I first got sent to prep school aged six. The building seemed very unprepossessing. It was gothic and smelt a little ripe and obviously one wants to be seen to fit in, make a good impression and get on with things; but one felt a little trepidation – perhaps. One had heard the most ghastly things about being beaten or “flushed” by the older children and one was naturally a little apprehensive. In all the flurry of arriving and departing I missed my parents and didn’t have the opportunity to shake their hands good-bye. Which was a pity – but one just got on with things.

__24.__What is your favourite occupation?

“Flushed” was when one was grabbed by the other children and held above a lavatory, while they brayed like hyenas and pushed one’s head into the bowl.

__25.__What is your most marked characteristic?

Of course one was not alone in being on the receiving end of these sorts of hi-jinks.

__26__Who are your favourite writers?

Keats was a great comfort. The other boys would try to make fun of one and so I would regularly go and hide somewhere and read Keats.

__27__Who is your hero of fiction?

One night, long after I had drifted off to sleep, a group of the chaps woke me by pulling me from my bed. Lamp-posting I believe they called it. Despite my protestations they managed to get hold of my glasses, which I had hidden beneath my pillow and threw them from one to another – until the ring-leader – who now heads a major EU think tank – decided to dispense with them through the window. I found them the following morning – lost among the petunias at the bottom of the building.

__28.__Which historical figure do you most identify with?

I remember feeling rather alone. Father was terribly busy though and one didn’t want to

__29.__Who are your heroes in real life?

Bother him – one was expected to soldier on. To just get on with it. And so one did. One just got on with it. And put everything else – to the back of one’s mind.

 

(As told to Otto English – satire)