Saturday, August 22, 2009

Mutual Antagonisms

I live on a small, rainy (typical August) windswept island marooned off the north west coast of Europe. It looks like a pig with a witch on it's back, preparing to devour its poor supplicant neighbouring island.

It's inhabitants call each other names constantly. The Jocks (ANCIENT NATION that they are, and insist on telling everybody within earshot) hate everybody else on the island with a refreshing constancy. The Welsh, being rather short, aren't so vociferous. They just hate anyone who hasn't heard of Aneurin Bevan and Dylan Thomas.

The Angles and whatnots, who constitute the English, are just content to get on with hating each other. Soft Southern bastards, inbred Devonians, gormless Brummies, thieving Scousers, London types, Northern muck 'n' brassers, Somerset Levellers: they're all constantly at each other's throats.

It's a great place to live if you think it's nice to be nice while secretly fancying a scrap.

It's no wonder that this little inebriated scrapper had such an influence on the world, while annoying Ireland.


MJ said...

But there are teacakes!

KAZ said...

'Northern muck 'n' brassers' does not allow for the hatred of Yorkshire persons by the rest of the flat capped ferret lovers.

MJ said...

Why has your avatar disappeared?

And worse... MY "scratch 'n' sniff"?

Madame DeFarge said...

Meant to tell you that I saw plenty of Tunnocks products on sale in Iceland. Made me feel all moist and sentimental.

MJ said...

Okay, your avatar is back.

But I'm not!

*pens letter to the editor*