“Raaaaaaaaaag and Bone!” shouts deranged Griffin

by philapilus
Nick Griffin at American Renaissance Conferance

As sane as the next frozen toothbrush covered in dogshit, but somewhat less pleasant.

Nick Griffin, leader of the BNP and pretend politician, gave a speech at his party’s conference on Sunday, in which he exhorted his members to cast off the shackles of self-respect and eat dead things they found on the street.

Griffin took to the stage and, after removing his shirt, attaching pegs to his nipples, and tying four neckties around his head, did an offensive rendition of a Native American dance, whilst whooping and shouting “Me injun redskin, me want firewater!”. 

He then urinated freely over the pages of crayon scribblings that constituted his speech and narrated his morning bowel-movements in the third person.

But just as some of the skinheads in the room with an IQ higher than sixty began to look around nervously, Griffin returned to apparent normality, stepped up to the podium, and began one of his celebrated tirades.

“We all like dead things, right? Dead things make the world go round! What is, when you get right down to it, the difference between a farm-reared mechanically slaughtered cow, and a hedgehog that got flattened by a landrover? Nothing! Except the hedgehog is even tastier, and free!”

“And roadkill isn’t just for the carnivorasauruses; there are plenty of free vegetarian options. Behold! I have here a packet of crisps; dropped and flattened underfoot on a high street! There’s hardly any dirt on them!”

Griffin’s tips for cheap-living were complemented by a request for funds, as his party is currently £500,000 in the red.

“Why not get all your worldly possessions and flog them, then donate the proceeds to me?” Griffin asked, one eye blinking uncontrollably. “Then go out on the streets and search for things that can help the BNP become a successful business!

“Why, only this morning I found a half-eaten apple in a hedge, and a punctured bicycle wheel down by the railway lines! Who’ll give me a tenner for both? All goes to a good cause! Keep the red injuns out of England!”

After embarrassed silence there was a smattering of applause from some of the audience of twelve, which Griffin acknowledged with a deep stage bow, before finishing with a rhetorical flourish “Friends, Britons, countrymen; give me the contents of that skip round the corner from your house, the things your neighbour leaves on the pavement, the stuff you find in public dustbins! And I will make you millionaires, with all the black slaves you can eat!

“The BNP will rule this England. Hey, that rhymes!”

He then proceeded to solemnly pour a bucket of thick treacle into his pants whilst weeping uncontrollably.

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