It was a longer summer than I had anticipated my friends - if anyone at all is out there reading this.
Since I outed myself at the UKIP’s prestigious North Northwest Area Grimsargh and Longridge Annual Conference as the glamourous, redbrick-educated Welsh-Albanian DWP stationery store-keeper Newlin Nallbani, it may prove difficult (not to say career terminal) for me to keep on posting weekly or more frequent rants exposing the disastrous inner workings of our bloated and parasitic Welfare State.
My special thanks are extended to those of you who mounted a Facebook campaign to support me concerning my work suspension entitled; “Cut Newlin Down.”
You’ll both be glad to know that the superglue has washed off nicely from my soles and heels and I’m allowed back into the offices at Barry House again as long as I don’t go public any more about all the work-shy, fast-breeding, feckless, uneducated tax-vampires of
Preston and its environs. I can continue to hand out pens and yellow post-it notepads to hordes of eager-faced young welfare bureaucrats: which is the job that I love, after all.
Actually it was quite some considerable time before my rapturous reception at Conference that I realised that the daily or weekly rant about the culture wars and civilisational suicide was not a format that was working for me; others were (and are) doing the long rant thing too well and too often for the Northwester to add much, if anything, to the pot. Perhaps another angle might do some good?...
And all of that was before I fell ill after my summer holiday to the
Lake District and the headaches and the nightmares started.
I know very well my dear friends and respected foes, that you are each and every one of you utterly obedient to all authority and will unquestioningly follow the voice of command no matter what. That being said, I shall just have to trust you to not, under any circumstances and for any purposes, follow the large link below.
I mean it.
Picture from here.