NounMooz-Limz And Cruss-Tayz And Trotz,
O My!
Pro-War protest, mounted by those who are
On The Other Side.A gathering of a few hundred cowardly
demonstrators, tinfoil-hatted cranks and straw-men, marching together in
support of
fascist totalitarianism, motivated by
suspicious, obsessive self-hatred and a longing to be crushed under the
Islamofascist jackboot
.A rollicking good
party of
apologism where
useful idiots cavort
indecently, celebrating their childish rebellion against the father figures of authority, while furiously laughing and wanking mucky splurts of pro-
Jihadi ichor into the trusting, pleading faces of the victims of
tyranny.The main
Anti-War Protest of 2003 was the Bastille Day of
Decency, at which several hundred
Decents experienced
epiphanies when faced with a broad coalition of
fascists, trendy lefties and
Ivory Tower elitists, thereafter penning atrociously dull books describing their brown-trousered horror
."When I awoke on the morning of 15th February, I discovered that one million Britons had chosen to march in support of a fascist regime - the largest such rally since the marches against the overthrow of General Franco in 1975... When I asked one young marcher why she was marching in solidarity with fascists, she resorted to a glib witticism, braying "Mister, yer fly's open and yer balls are hanging out!"Looking down, I was horrified to discover that she was correct - it was at that moment that I espied Lady Fotheringhame, who was staring open-mouthed at my exposed clackersack in shock and undisguised revulsion..."I can explain everything!" I blurted, stepping forward, but unbeknown to me a police horse had just that moment laid a fresh deposit of steaming manure, and I slipped and stumbled forwards into the ample bosom of a heavyset lady in a floral dress. My protestations of innocence went unheeded as she began to thrash me with her handbag...""I was deeply and passionately anti-war, determined to demonstrate my implacable hatred of the Nazi imperialist George Bush. I marched to show my steadfast commitment, my moral certitude and my genocidal hatred of western democracy... ...Then I clapped eyes on a crusty juggler talking to a bloke with a beard, and the scales fell from my eyes... I immediately threw my lot in with the pro-war crowd, who were far cooler kids, had better parties and free beer."