Bloody immigrants.

The building you’re sitting in right now is held up with Spanish or Iranian gypsum. Most of your car is probably made in Germany, Mexico or Japan. The oil that powers it most likely from Saudi Arabia.

You drink beer from Belgium, vodka from Russian and wine from France. You gobble Italian pizza and scoff Chinese rice, flavoured with spices from Indonesia.

You wear American jeans and eat chips made from Venezuelan potatoes. Your coffee is Brazilian,​ your tea is Tamil, the sugar is Jamaican and the milk is only safe to drink because a Frenchman made it so. If you fancy a little flavouring, you’ll use syrup from Canada, chocolate from Colombia, or lemons from Portugal.

Your democracy is Greek. Your humour is Jewish. Your numbers are Arabic and your letters are Latin. Your pyjamas are Indian and your slippers are Turkish.

And you’re reading this in a language that’s a bastard hybrid of French, Latin, Scandiwegian and Irish.

How dare anybody complain about immigrants.


10 thoughts on “Bloody immigrants.

  1. Nice post! I’m so glad we have a global economy. Mostly because I think it’s the only way we’re going to ever figure out how to begrudgingly get along. 🙂

    1. We must all hang together, or we’ll all hang separately. Someone smarter than me said that once, but I can’t remember who (told you he was smarter).

      1. I’m sorry – I appear to have ended up commenting on a different post – I’ve just noticed the comments section on the UKIP thread was closed. Anyway, a very good post and one I am incredibly glad to see so close to Thursday’s Farage farce.

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