Credit crunch? Sounds tasty, well chew on this

Let me tell you about the fucking credit crunch. I know it’s not a new miracle weight loss snack that you CAN eat between meals (as part of a calorie controlled diet) and I know it’s everywhere, 24 hours of the bollocking day. On the telly – when X-Factor isn’t on, on the radio – when it’s not spouting cancerous top 40 bile, on the web – between intense wanking sessions and in your wallets and purses but fuck me!! what’s the big fuss? It’s all made up numbers anyway isn’t it?

Permit me to explain further, if you will.
I admit I ain’t no economist but lets have a look at the day to day facts…
I get paid my wages into my bank account, my employer gets paid from his clients/customers into his bank account, and his clients get paid into their account in an enormous, invisible, Matrix like, Pac-Man maze, digital circle of computer managed debt. The only physical moolah any of us ever see is when we stumble, all wobbly legged and blurry vision to a cash point, after paying for an unnecessary round of jager bombs and 12 pints (with plastic cards that represent fiscal status) then hand over the grubby notes in exchange for a mechanically recovered chicken (?) kebab or a similarly pointless colon blocking snack that we can later regurgitate in a spectacular display into (and around) our porcelain altar (also paid for via the monetary ether).

The more money you have the less money you physically have. It’s all managed via “statements” and “credit ratings”. The more expensive the item, the more likely you are to pay for it with a card kindly lent to you (read the T&C) by your bank who lovingly use all your hard earned points to fund international arms cartels and child prostitute rings in the developing world. (The latter of which are then paid for by ageing western pop stars with wilted erections and gold plastic cards).

So now the wise and sexually frustrated leaders of our “great nation” are talking about giving a £500 billion “rescue package” to the same cunts who spunked all our hard earned (invisible) cash-money points on £100 million Christmas bonuses for themselves!! Has the disgusting concrete clad, profit hungry, modern, Argos addicted world gone more hat stand than it already is?!

When I am eventually voted Prime minister of the free world (oh it’s gonna happen, just see) I’m gonna personally go round to the houses of the chairmen of Barclays, HSBC, Nat West et al and repossess their poxy Surrey mansions, their fucking fleets of environment raping Land Rovers and Mercedes, their 80” plasma tellies and eBay their disgustingly bland Ralph Lauren polo shirt (with the collars turned up) crammed wardrobes to bail out all the poor cunts who they cunningly tricked to facilitate their comfortably pointless existences – in the name of “THE PEOPLE”

If the money that floats in the digital ether actually exists: - where in the bumfuckery is it? And if, as I suspect, it’s all just credit balances archived on spreadsheets around the globe then why not delete the cocking lot of ‘em and start from scratch, making a law for the banks that says IF YOU LIE YOU DIE.

If you can’t look after my cunting cash like you say you will fucking well give it back to me cos I’ve got a mattress that needs stuffing you greedy, mismanaged profit hungry excuse for a financial institution.

Everyone in the civilised world needs to go to their banks and withdraw every last penny they have then buy a big angry dog, a box full of guns and some quality surveillance equipment to properly defend their hard earned paper notes and pennies.

In the meantime, as we impatiently await my inevitable revolution to begin, lets pay CASH for a case of quality rum and 200 Rothmans, get naked (except for maybe an amusing hat) then slap on the Killing Joke classic “Money Is Not Our God” and scream along to the lyrics out of an open window.
FUCKING HELL.