:: Wednesday, 21 April 2004 ::
What a Skippy Arse, eh?
Bated by Blair I make the following comment:
Michael Darragh is at the very least part Irishman, a Celtic jackass, and therefore a drunkard who cannot drive and cannot dance, who loves his mother, potato, potato.
Jeebus wept. What is the man's point? Once he men a blonde hostie whose tits were not pointing heavenward and she gave him an upgrade to business class on a flight when the Bali bombing happened but he did not like her tone.
Gi Fa, you imbecile turd.
I do not approve of your tone. You thinks wogs are victims of skippies? You think we cannot take it? You think we do not think in racist terms ourselves? You think we do not know our art and food is superior in every way to anything that has ever come out of skippy Oz?
Get Far Away.
Sure, some Oz folks are racist, skippies and wogs alike.
Your point being?
Talk to me about racism. I am Italian. Everything below Rome is just a bunch of Greeks. Everything above Modena is just a bunch of Austrians.
And neither of those is a good thing.
You want racism, you talk to me.
Urgh. Too early.
:: WB 3:21 pm [link+] ::