Fuck The English

I’ve been enjoying reading Kevin MacNeil’s “The Stornoway Way”. It’s a funny book, and one thing that’s been amusing me is the regular disparaging references to “The English”.

To “The Scots”, of course, “The English” are the cause of all that’s wrong with the world. I recognise the sentiment. Strangely, as soon as you step over the border, the target becomes Southern Ponces. Approach Watford, and Southerners become Londoner Wankers. Enter London, pause for a while for a slight detour as you debate the relative merits of North vs South, or East vs West, and you’ll eventually settle on a target of Rich Buggers, or perhaps Posh Twats. Which is fair enough of course - those bastards really are to blame for everything.

Though I was born and raised in London, and will soon be a permanent resident of Stornoway, you’d be more likely to hit me if you aimed your ire at “fecking computer programmers”, or maybe “beardy blokes who like rock music”.

English, I am. The English? Away wi ye! I’ll no be tarred wi that particular brush…