Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Not in my name

So, not content with ruining my football club, the imperialist bastards have now got their hands on Cadbury's. The War on Terror is one thing but every man has his limits.

Pass me my placard, my whistle, my drum, my Peruvian hat, my book of Pinter poems, my lack of perspective and my sense of self-righteousness; I'm hitting the streets.

16 comments:

malty said...

The milky bars are on me, bud.

Gaw said...

I can't resist quoting Pinter's dreadful poem 'Democracy':

There's no escape.
The big pricks are out.
They'll fuck everything in sight.
Watch your back.

And your Creme Eggs.

Sean said...

I thought you were a bit curly wurly anyway.

Brit said...

Says the friend of Dorothy.

Sean said...

Flakey is another word that comes to mind.

Ive got a couple of old wallpaper pasting tables for your leaflets if you are interested.

Uncle Dick Madeley said...

Would that be your Peruvian hat made by the world famous Peruvian hat makers recently bought out by Calvin Klein?

worm said...

Its taken me nearly 20 years to get over them changing Marathon to Snickers, and now this.

malty said...

Another British institution Schwept away.

Brit said...

I always suspected that deep down Paul Kingsnorth and I were more alike than different...







... we're both Crunchie Conservatives.

Peter Burnet said...

Kraft said the deal would create a "global confectionery leader".

I've been waiting years for one of those. Geez, they don't even bother to play the game anymore. Time was you could expect something like: "Kraft is deeply honoured to be in partnership with the men and women who make the Great British Chocolate and is fully committed to maintaining the Cadbury heritage, quality and unique position in British life."

Sean said...

Good Conservative choice, afterall Crunchies are quite simple things being just cinder toffee with a bit of chocolate on top which you are forced to buy as they are usually the last thing left on the sweet shelf.

Personally I would buy 10 fruit salads and 10 black jacks instead, always seemed to go better with the chip buttie at lunch times.

worm said...

10 Fruit Salads, Sean? You Sybarite, you

Brit said...

Yes, you can just see the glee on Sean's face as he skips along Shaftesbury Avenue, humming a Lloyd-Webber medley and clutching his bag of ten Fruit Salads...

Sean said...

I would be so lucky Brit, a few hundred quid in shopping, and ton on a meal, and thats before the effing Cockneys rip me off in some form, 10 fruit salads I wish.

Worm, the real pleasure was the wrappers being such a good and discrete projectile to help relive the tedium of a English Literature class..getting a good one in little Brits ear would have been my goal.

Gaw said...

Sean, were you aware that Black Jacks were racist sweets? Thankfully, they've now been censored (I must have missed this campaign; or was it slipped in under the cover of the Robinson's jam one?):

'Black Jacks were called Black Jacks because the original 1920s labels pictured a grinning gollywog - unbelievably, back then images of black people were used to advertise Liquorice. However, by the late 1980s manufacturers Trebor quite rightly scrapped the Black Jacks golly logo as it was racially offensive, replaced the logo with an image of a pirate with a black beard and eye patch and re branded the sweets as Black Jack. And by the early 1990s Trebor disbanded the pirate logo altogether in favour of the current black and white swirl design.

Matt said...

I'll note only that the Confectionary Imperialist Pigs have no mercy on their compatriots either.