Are we being overrun by immigrants, ask two housewives
It’s amazing, we’re finally being allowed to talk about “It” without being labelled a you-know-what . . .
The conspiracy of silence . . . It’s a scandal, really, isn’t it?
Everyone is finally having to face up to the problem.
Thanks to UKIP.
And about time!
Well — and it’s about to get even worse.
Don’t we know it!
Now we’re going to get the Romanians battering on our door. And the . . . What-nots . . . Jordanians.
No need to batter, Suky. They can walk right in. Waltz right in, I should say. Go directly to the dole office. Do Not Pass Go.
But do collect £200! HAHAHA! No questions asked! Just hold out a mucky paw and say, I’ll have some of that Free British Doshskii if you please. Very funny, Tessa!
I wish it was, Suky. I wish it was . . . And I’m not saying anything about Jordanians per se —
Aren’t you? I am.
Well, all right. I am, actually.
Of course you are, darling. Don’t be feeble. They’re a dreadful bunch and you know it.
Well, no — I’m not saying that. Because that really is racist.
He-llo? It’s only me! I’m not working for the Secret Police, you know! You can actually still say what you think in some corners of this so-called country. Without getting arrested . . .
All right. I’m just saying — I’ve got nothing against the Eastern Europeans.
Far from it.
They’re terrific workers.
I’ve got a super lady from-from-Georgia? Is it? Oh, God. One of the “ias”. I’m pretty sure it’s not Romania though. Because of the sex-trafficking thing. I wouldn’t have interviewed her . . .
Is that the Georganians? Or the Albanians? Who go in for that?
Hmm? Anyway — she’s marvellous. Really super. You couldn’t fault Agota. She’s only a cleaner. But she does the kids’ tea. Everything, really. If I’m suddenly stuck at the hairdresser. Or you know . . . I just can’t be fished . . .
Oh yes, she really is. Smashing! Part of the family, almost. The kids love her. I’d trust her with my life.
So I’m certainly not racist. And frankly it’s not racist, not to want to shell out for a lot of Uncle Bulgarians who want to trundle over here so they can sponge off our welfare state.
Of course it isn’t.
It’s the ones who come here and take the piss that I can’t forgive.
That’s right. And take all our jobs.
Well — except the English are so lazy, aren’t they? Nobody wants to employ them.
Agota has a friend who’s from — wherever she’s from.
She’s not working at the moment.
Can’t get any work — or that’s what she says . . . so she’s sitting there — no use to man nor beast — in one of our council flats, probably, claiming money off our state, contributing absolutely nothing to this country. Whatsoever. NADA.
And yet we are powerless. It’s give, give, give. Take. Take. Take.
Take, Take, Take. That’s right. It makes you crazy, doesn’t it? But what can we do?
We could vote UKIP.
I know . . .
It still sounds a bit kind of . . .
. . . awkward . . .
It’s still a bit sort of “weird people in council houses” . . . with Union Jacks. And I don’t think — because I’m not racist . . .
Of course not.
I’m just sick and tired of supporting all these something-for-nothings . . . I’ve got to run, Sukes. Nigel’s got some ghastly friend he wants to bring to dinner-I’ve said I’m not cooking.
Good for you.
I’ve had enough.
Agota’s doing the kids . . . So I was thinking I might nip to the gym.
No related posts.
No related posts.