Yoohoo, it's me again, Auntie Nellie from Stating the Bleedin Obvious. Sorry I haven't been on for a while, bet you thought I'd croaked didn't you, not chuffin likely, I've been on my hols to Vegas. Saw my old pal Elvis I did, yep he is still around, we had a good chinwag. Saw him several times actually, funny how he never seems to look any older. How he manages to be in two places at the same time I will never know, clever bloke, chuffin amazing.
Anyway I'm back. Meanqueen asked me to do another guest post, and I said okeydokey, because I need the dosh to pay for another trip. 'I hope you've got a good one', she says. 'Of course', says I, 'do I ever let you down'.
So, what's the topic today? I don't normally get all political, but I'm going to have to say something about this present government, or perhaps I shouldn't blame the mess the country is in on that lot at the top we have in now. It's been a long time coming. To be honest there isn't any mob which has made a good job of getting to grips with the disharmony that now seems to be sweeping the nation. The problem is, no one with any power ever listens to us lot down here at grass roots level. So this is my big chance to make a stand, to open my big mouth, and say it like it is.
For a start, does anyone in Parliament, Whitehall, Number 10, or wherever it is they hang out, know the meaning of the words, full up? They should look it up, because it might help them to understand why a big chunk of our countrymen, and women, are fed up. Maybe I should spell it out to the men in suits, because if they can grasp this it would give them the key to sorting out the whole sorry mess we are in, and when they realise I am talking old fashioned common sense, they will beg me to take over the whole chebang, ha ha.
So get an eyeball of this, you lot down there in the capital. Full up, means.....chocablock, bursting at the seams, crammed, crowded, packed out, packed to the rafters, congested, loaded, overflowing, teeming, swarming, up to the hilt, wall to wall. Do you want any more, or do you get my drift?
So, how many more people are you planning on inviting in, how many more can you fit onto our tiny island, because I think it is not far off sinking. We, the United Kingdom, are full up. We have no jobs, we have nowhere for them to live, oh I forgot, they will probably be able to get a few square feet of floor space in a shed somewhere in a London suburb. Either that or there are plenty of disused railway arches.
So what happens next Mr Government Ministers? Open the doors and welcome everyone in with open arms? It's a recipe for disaster. There will be anarchy on the streets, more riots, more plundering and looting, gangs roaming free robbing and killing. It's already happening, open your eyes. Get out of your safe posh houses, see for yourself. People are struggling because there are no jobs, they have no money, the ruthless with no morals will steal to get what they want. We give shed loads of money to people, virtually as they walk off the boat, or get out of the back of the lorry that they just travelled half way across Europe in.
Prime Minister, we have a time bomb waiting to go off, and all you do is open the gates and let more in. Now look, don't go all mardy on me, this is serious. I am trying to inject a bit of humour into my post today, but I am struggling, this is no laughing matter. It is not chuffin funny.
Prime Minister, how can I get through to you. I am getting on in years, brought up in the back of beyond, with a common sense mum who taught me how to survive on not much money. I have lived the life of an ordinary working person. You however are a young whippersnapper, gone through the education system, got your degrees or whatever, lived in nice houses, and mixed with all the toffs. Here is my challenge, get your ass out of that chair and come and live with me in the real world. And there will be no swanning off to the father in laws mansion, namely, Normanby Hall. I challenge you to go undercover, no posh suits, no tv cameras. Dye your hair, get your clothes from a charity shop, whatever it takes. I will show you the town on a Saturday night where youngsters drink themselves into oblivion because they have nothing better to do. I will take you to the job centre to see the look of despair when there are no jobs to apply for. I will show you the shops which rip vulnerable people off with extortionate interest rates. We can't get a doctors appointment for weeks, have to wait months to get a hospital bed. And why is all this happening? Because we are full up.
That's me done, stating the bleedin obvious again. I'm going to get myself into trouble one of these days, wait for the backlash.
Love from Auntie Nellie. Toodle pip
A tootle out to York for the day
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