DIARY OF A BREXITEER

Brexit27th Dec.

Couple of days after Crimbo but still no sign of the fitness watch I ordered from Amazon. Not for myself you understand. Definitely not. I may be 19 stone but I’m totally fit. I could easy run 100 yards if it wasn’t bad for my heart. No, its for the missus. Like I said to her when she was peching a bit carrying the turkey, “Yer gettin’ a bit porky dear,” I mean she’d hardly the breath to serve me. She didnae take it well. “I notice yer no’ gettin’ off yer fat arse to help me!” Now I’m not an unreasonable man, so I went straight online and ordered her one of those fitnesss watches that does yer blood pressure and measures how many steps you take in a day an’ that. So when it arrives she’ll have to admit I’m helpful. Might even get her to pay for it.

28th Dec.

Still hasn’t arrived. So I send Amazon a bit of stiff feedback and they have the impertinence to send me a standard email mentioning festive holidays for staff. Bloody typical! So there’s all these foreigners working for Amazon because no sensible native would work on these conditions and then they want a break at Crimbo as well! Like how many of them know anything about the meaning of Crimbo? I mean Santa Claus and yer turkey an’ that, they’re British, yeah.Like when it says O come all ye faithful it doesnae mean come all ye from bleeding Bosnia an’ Romania and poxy Poland. Anyway, if they take these rotten jobs away from us natives, at least they could work at Crimbo so we can get our orders on time.

And that’s another point when I think about it. Foreigners are too ignorant to deliver stuff for Amazon. I mean take yer average Bulgarian. Like he might know the road to… eh the road to…. the Black Sea or the Dardanelles – or is that in Turkey – and yer Pole might know the way to the Tatar mountains, but that’s no good for getting to Dundee or Forfar.

I say this to my stupit brother-in-law who’s arrived to scrounge a drink, and he tries to tell me that hardly any EU immigrants works for Amazon for that very reason, but  it’s all poor Scottish boys who’re officially self-employed with delivery firms that don’t allow toilet breaks. He thinks he’s won the argument until I say, “Just take a look at the names of the the bosses of they firms. It’s all things like Jaconelli and Scorpani, and guess what that means: Mafia! That’s another great gift from the EU. Before we had our own scumbags. Now these immigrants come over here and hijack our criminality sector.

He just shakes his head and says he must get to his bank because they’ve refused him an overdraft. When he tells me he’s with Santander, I just chuckle and ask him if he knows where they come from.

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