Tuesday, January 30, 2007

Jots and Tittles on Royalty and Iraq

Prince "Duh" Phillip and the Fug-ugly Camila Parker Bowels Come to Harlem
I say, the Royals are so F-ing predictable. I posted 'bout a month ago a little blog attack on Brit Royalty and how Amuricans bow and scrape to Brits no matter their royal or common stature but especially to the royal bullshit family and how every time they come out of their castles and do their little world PR trips, they inevitably come to this country and end up in Harlem kissing black babies--old Queen Liz did it when she was in NYC and old Amurica's Princess "Which Way to the Stables" Diana used to do it a lot, 'cause she was in NYC a lot.

But, yes, to Amurican white people, the British royals still own us and are due our respects, and this is especially true amongst the Elizabethan-era hillybillies that nest and roost all along the hogback of mountains that run from West Virginny on the east on over west to Tulsa, Oklahomey, a hillbilly world capital, home of Oral "Slap 'em up side the head" Roberts and his retard family, check out his halfwit son, Richard, and also home of one of the most horrible of racial conflicts in the history of racial conflicts--what those white Tulsa hillbillies did to its black population amounts to the same reason Saddam Hussein got hanged just recently over there in good ole becomin' hillbilly Iraq (pronounced Eye-rack up in them hills, folks).

Can you imagine being a hillbilly high school drop out, say living in the hills of old Kaintuck, can't find no job, not even at Wal-Mart, folks on his bony ass, "When y'all gonna git a job, Billy Bob? Yore ole daddy and me's on our way to the pore house as it is. Why don't ya jin the army or sump'in? Mabel Mottweiler's boy, Ab, jinned the army and look at him, no arms no legs left after Eye-Rack, and I bet that's bringin' in some good steady bac'n for Mabel and Bubba John; 'course they has to take care of the boy, you know, wipe his ass and shake his pee-pee down 0-kay-zhunly," having to listen to that all day, going down to the army recruiter and being hoodwinked into joining the dog soldiers, trained for two weeks, and then shipped whole hog right into action in Iraq? Can you imagine that hillbilly finding himself in what to him is a land full of Holy Heathen, towelheads, mooselimbs, Jesus haters, A-rabbs, sand monkeys--can you imagine that? Timothy McVeighs by the thousands in our army now; Zeus help us when all these wearied and harried sons and daughters of the great patriotic Amuricans come home, patriotic Amuricans who'll offer their sons and daughters lock, stock, and barrel to the army just to get them off the hillbilly economic rolls with the chance hope of maybe bringing in at least 10 grand if they get killed in action overthere.

You take a hillbilly family with 3 big strapping blond blue-eyed toeheaded sons and one meek lizard-like goat-humping daughter, that's 4 in Eye-rack at once; if all 4 of 'em gits blown away, hell, that's 40 thousand smackers, more money than the average Amurican hillbilly family will see in a lifetime of chopping wood and doing rubboard washings and ironings for Mister Charley and Miss Anne. Oops, I forgot about the moonshiners. These white trash whites at least have given us our bourbon and rye whiskies, the best in the world, folks; ya gotta give the white man credit where credit is due.

Our British heritage; the Elizabethan holdovers that ran off into them Piedmont, Appalachian, Great Smokey, Blue Ridge, Ozark, Ouachita mountains and had huge goon-eyed sad-looking families that lived off possum, collards, and lots of greasy gravy all washed down with a number of slugs of white mule and then doin' a little pickin' and grinnin' on the front porch while the yungins use the outhouse, "Don't fergit to throw that there lime into the hole after ye've shat."

These are the Amuricans who still bow before fops like Prince "Poppycock" Phillip (check out that head!) and Camila Parker Bowles, truly one of the ugliest women in the world; yet, up side Prince Phillip she turns into a royal beauty, still ugly as the ho's that work the palace stable boys, but in royal terms, a true princess. What a wowser! I could play the Dozens on her the rest of the day--"Yo mama beat you with an ugly stick." [These are also the 30% who would still follow our little spoiled rich brat Georgie Porgie G. W. Bush right off the edge of their flat earth into human oblivion.]

So, yep, NYC just had P. Phillips and CPB here, and yep, they no sooner got off the royal bus (yeah, sure) that they headed for Harlem--"I say, where are the little pickaninnies today?"--and sure nuff, soon they were kissing black children and grinning like overfed possums (or Cheshire cats I guess I should say--do they have possums in England?). What a pathetic scene; and of course, all our dignitaries like our "richer than Prince Phillip" mayor, the little billionaire, had their noses deep in the cracks of both these slimey limeys--can you imagine the degradation of having your face up Camila's wild crack? "Shoot 'em the finger!" I was growling in my most antimonarchial way, "Arrest 'em as terrerists and wearing Nazis uniforms to parties and shit. Send 'em to Syria to be tortured."

I say.

Here's an accusation against the charming Prince Phillip by Fayed's ole filthy rich pappy:

MOHAMED al-Fayed yesterday used a BBC radio interview to launch an extraordinary attack on the Duke of Edinburgh, branding him a racist who "grew up with Nazis" and who organised the murder of his son and Princess Diana because he could not tolerate the thought of their marriage.

Read all about it:


Little Jots About Iraq
Created after WWI, the war to end all wars, remember?, by the godly Winnie Churchill and the Brit diplomat snobs out of three principalities of the old Ottoman Empire (Turkey), Iraq was created totally due to the Kurds having beaucoup oil and the Brit geologists knowing there was oil and even more oil probably under that sand--though right now, the Kurds still control most of the producing oilfields--and that oil spilling over into the Shi'ite and Sunni regions, too, with enough oil under that sand--even though they hadn't drilled there yet--to 'cause these slimey Brits to want to hold on to it; therefore, the Brits unified these three totally different peoples, the Kurds, the Shi'ites, and the Sunni, into the nation of Iraq. All because of the oil.

Every American president, elected or not, since WWI has had a hand in some kind of involvement, clandestine or otherwise, in Iraq affairs. Eisenhower approved the CIA's overthrowing of the Iraq leader in the 50s--yes, that same now godly man who warned us of the military industrial complex, that golf-playing ex-general (with a Stooge mentality really, though like the pompous Patton, Ike loved to read war history) instigated wars on his own--how about our involvement in Viet Nam for a start? Kennedy, too, was very active in Iraq politics and the oil industry overthere, which was being threatened by nationalization by Iraq's government.

And then, wow, little Georgie Porgie's pappy, yep, the Honorable George Herbert W. Pappy Bush--oh Zeus, this is all so silly sickening; these creeps have been meddling in Middle Eastern policy since our white Anglo-Saxon creepy Brit ancestors caused it all in the first place; the god-damn French, too, were involved in dividing up the Middle East after WWI. But GHW Pappy Bush, that big fart, is the cause of this modern attack on sovereign Iraq. Pappy Bush the wimp. Who encouraged the Iraqis to rise up against Saddam and then when they did and came and asked him for weapons to overthrow Saddam old Pappy said NOPE! Saddam's army was being decimated in Kuwait. The Iraqis had done just what Pappy and his army had advised them to do; they had risen up and could have easily overthrown Saddam but, nope, Pappy flubbed it; just as he then flubbed it twice by not going into Baghdad when he had the upper hand. Ya see, this is where Unka Dick, Cousin Karl, Scooter, Rummy Rumsfeld got the idea that the Iraqi people would welcome a liberating American army with rose pedals and superSiegheils. Pappy could have gone on in to Baghdad during his winning the Gulf War and, yes, then the Iraqi insurgents would have been on our side and would have seen the US Army as a liberation force rather than what it is today in Iraq, an invasion force, a threat to their very existence and certainly leaving them with nothing now, no country at all, no Baghdad, no electricity, no fresh water, no sewer system, the presence of an occupying army that will be occupying their country now only Zarathustra knows for sure how long, and worst of all, the loss of their wealth, their oil--we've stolen their oil and given it back to those very companies that gobbled it up after Winnie "Half-Amurican" Churchill conquered it, Exxon Mobil (Standard Oil of New York & New Jersey), Chevron (Standard Oil of California), British Petroleum (they are drilling off all our oil in the Arctic region of Alaska), and British Shell. [In a Malcolm Lowry story, Malcolm is residing in a squatter's shack on Gabriola Island off Vancouver, British Columbia, and right across from the shack is a huge Shell Oil Refinery with a huge neon sign on top of it that was supposed to spell out SHELL but at night, due to the "S's" neon blown out, the sign designated the area as HELL, much to morbid Malcolm's delight.]

My Shell sign says HELL, too.

for The Daily Growler

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Aincha getin yer Phillip confused wit yer Charles?