November 21, 2006

Shopping Tip.

Filed under: Uncategorized — Jim @ 11:46 pm

If you happen to find yourself in London, consider this before you set foot into Harrods.

Rat bastards.

4 Comments »

  1. Nothing new here

    “I went into a public-‘ouse to get a pint o’beer,
    The publican ‘e up an’ sez, “We serve no red-coats here.”
    The girls be’ind the bar they laughed an’ giggled fit to die,
    I outs into the street again an’ to myself sez I:

    O it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, go away”;
    But it’s “Thank you, Mister Atkins,” when the band begins to play,
    The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
    O it’s “Thank you, Mr. Atkins,” when the band begins to play.

    I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
    They gave a drunk civilian room, but ‘adn’t none for me;
    They sent me to the gallery or round the music-‘alls,
    But when it comes to fightin’, Lord! they’ll shove me in the stalls!

    For it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, wait outside”;
    But it’s “Special train for Atkins” when the trooper’s on the tide,
    The troopship’s on the tide, my boys, the troopship’s on the tide,
    O it’s “Special train for Atkins” when the trooper’s on the tide.

    Yes, makin’ mock o’ uniforms that guard you while you sleep
    Is cheaper than them uniforms, an’ they’re starvation cheap;
    An’ hustlin’ drunken soldiers when they’re goin’ large a bit
    Is five times better business than paradin’ in full kit.

    Then it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy how’s yer soul?”
    But it’s “Thin red line of ‘eroes” when the drums begin to roll,
    The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
    O it’s “Thin red line of ‘eroes” when the drums begin to roll.

    We aren’t no thin red ‘eroes, nor we aren’t no blackguards too,
    But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
    An’ if sometimes our conduck isn’t all your fancy paints:
    Why, single men in barricks don’t grow into plaster saints;

    While it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, fall be’ind,”
    But it’s “Please to walk in front, sir,” when there’s trouble in the wind,
    There’s trouble in the wind, my boys, there’s trouble in the wind,
    O it’s “Please to walk in front, sir,” when there’s trouble in the wind.

    You talk o’ better food for us, an’ schools, an’ fires an’ all:
    We’ll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
    Don’t mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
    The Widow’s Uniform is not the soldier-man’s disgrace.

    For it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Chuck him out, the brute!”
    But it’s “Saviour of ‘is country,” when the guns begin to shoot;
    An’ it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ anything you please;
    But Tommy ain’t a bloomin’ fool – you bet that Tommy sees!”

    Comment by Dan Kauffman — November 22, 2006 @ 4:31 am

  2. Geeeez.

    Bunch of rat-flamin’-bastards.

    And when Harrod’s gets obliterated by some Middle Eastern woman who looks like Darth Vader, we’ll know why.

    Comment by Erica — November 22, 2006 @ 4:50 pm

  3. Fuck a Harrod’s, it is not owned by a englishman anymore, it is owed by a raghead. Fuckem.

    Comment by Catfish — November 22, 2006 @ 7:22 pm

  4. Maybe one of their “veiled” customers will turn out to be a suicide bomber… if that happens, I wonder if the police will tell the owners of Harrods they’ll have to handle it on their own because uniformed officers are not welcome in the store.

    You’re right – Rat Bastards… although that doesn’t seem to be severe enough.

    Comment by Teresa — November 22, 2006 @ 7:28 pm

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