OI OI saveloy! I see Danny Dyer is dipping his trotters into politics again.
Fresh from calling our endless conveyor belt of PMs a bunch of “c**ts”, yesterday he floated a giant turd down the River Thames to and seas.
He reckons, not unfairly, that much like our Parliamentarians our waterways are full of shit.
He’s got a point: raw sewage was pumped into our supposedly safe water 300,000 times last year, roughly the same amount spewed out by the front bench on a weekly basis.
But I’m convinced the ex-EastEnders landlord’s mission to disrupt won’t stop with that protest. How long before the wily old geezer sets his sights on becoming Prime Minister?
Britain certainly seems to like the idea, with a recent #Danny4PM campaign going viral on social media.
So what would this “national treasure” and star of Rivals and The Factory conjure up as his manifesto?
Allow me to present what I imagine will be an exact replica of ’s blueprint for Britain, aka THE DANIFESTO.
DEFENCE
FIRST rule of life – defend your f***ing manor. If I see some bald-headed muppet from givin’ it large in the boozers ’round Canning Town, I’m gonna get right up in his grill.
But I know this Herbert ain’t coming alone – his Russki boys are getting proper tooled up and kicking down their neighbour’s doors already.
So I’m assembling a new fighting force formed of all the lethal geezers from West Ham’s Inter City Firm. I’m calling it the Irons Dome. Catchy eh? No c**t on Earth will get through that.
Any attack will look like away – claret and teeth all over the gaff.
Have some of that, Vlad. Bosh!
UTILITIES
I’M talking shite, mate. That’s right, I’m getting serious about sewage.
Britain’s in the brown stuff and it’s down to all them greedy mugging us off.
That’s why I sent a giant Richard the Third up the Thames with some small boats – oi, pipe down, Nigel!
Surfing down the shit to have a dickie bird with our useless politicians. I’m looking at you, .
King of the Norf? C**t of the Norf more like. Have a word with yourself.
And there’s another good reason to clean up the drink – scientists found sewage is awash with marching powder.
I’ll bring in new laws to get all that Gianlucca dredged out the gutter and back up me beak, where it belongs. Proper naughty, me.
IMMIGRATION
ALL this human traffic coming over on them is a kick in the orchestras for hard-working taxpayers like myself.
And that ain’t hate, son, it’s the brass tacks.
So what’s my solution? Yeah, we gotta stop the boats but until we do we gotta give these asylum seekers somewhere to stay.
So I’m offering up a caravan park I know on the Isle of Sheppey where the owner and his daughter are good as gold.
It’s called . You might have seen it on TV.
Some muggy Doris from the Guardian gave it a one-star review but wait ’til we pack it with migrants.
Then those lentil-smoking lefties will be tripping over their kaftans to praise it.
PUBS
I’VE been landlord of Britain’s most famous boozer – shut it, Tyldesley – so I know a thing or two about the old rub-a- dub-dub.
And what’s happening right now to our locals is a disgrace, all those landlords out on their Aris thanks to and her moody abacus.
We’ve got ourselves into a right two and eight with all these bags of fruits thinking they know how the working class live.
They know f*** all and that’s why every day two end up brown bread.
Well, not on my watch.
When I’m PM I’ll be moving Number 10 to the East End – to my new boozer, The Naughty Nut. Cabinet members will all stand at the bar and nothing gets agreed until everyone’s got their round in.
ECONOMY
NOW, we all know the economy is proper f***ed.
There ain’t no treasure in that Treasury.
I blame all those lazy slags on the duck and dive, sitting at home getting off their nut and watching me on the telly.
No direction, nothing to do.
Well, that ends when I’m in charge.
Burnham says he’s reindustrialising Britain. Well, I’ll show him what that really means.
I’ll start by bringing back the ’umble factory – and yeah I’m talking about The Football Factory. Proper sorts getting bang on it for the weekly barney. That’ll give people a sense of belonging, something to believe in.
First stop, the Etihad. Get in!
TRUMP HAS DON IT AGAIN
IN an effort to retain his crown as World’s Crassest Man, shared an of himself tackling the Yorkshire Wildlife Park tiger and, naturally, surviving intact.
Well, at least he was adhering to the family of tragic ’s wishes that the terrifying original film should not be shared.
Oh wait, he already showed that to his 13million Truth Social followers.
It’s unclear exactly what America’s egomaniac-in-chief is trying to tell us with this latest viral nonsense.
But the timing is somewhat ironic, coming as it does ahead of next month’s .
An event where at least one giant orange beast is set to come a cropper.
THOUGHT I was looking in the mirror yesterday when I opened The Sun and saw a picture of with his pread.
Then I went on to my online banking account and realised that’s where the similarities between us end.
I’M FAWKING OUT FOR BIG BANG CHEERY
JUST blown sixty-two sheets to get the family into the local fireworks next month.
The prices seem to go up faster than a rocket these days – I’m sure it was under £50 last year.
Oh well, at least I’ll get to see a magnificent display of . . . what’s this . . . ?!
Sigh. In common with many “fireworks” events, much of it is being handed over to bloody drone displays.
Who asked for this tosh? Drones are epically boring.
I couldn’t give a monkey’s about some giant robot head giving me the wink or whatever clever clogs nonsense they’ve conjured up this year.
I want body-shaking booms and glittering Technicolor fountains.
I want more bang for my buck.
A COOL MOVE
COULD we finally be seeing some common sense from government zealots?
Plans are apparently afoot to slash subsidies for heat pumps and redirect £1billion of the earmarked £2.7billion cash – up to £9k per household ditching gas boilers – to defence.
Subsidies sound generous but they are a complete joke that only benefit minted folk with big houses and gardens to house these unsightly pumps.
I’ve whinged on here before about how even with a subsidy I’d still have to shell out five grand to “go green”.
Frankly, it’s completely unaffordable for the vast majority of us.
So yeah, let’s try to protect these cherished Isles a bit better and let the well-heeled do-gooders pay their own way for now.
NEW 2CV BROLLY A FOLLY?
I’M a big fan of bringing back its classic models as .
Having already reimagined the 4 and the 5 as what look like full-size Lego models, it’s now turned its sights on , the old “tin snail” that brought a touch of to your cul-de-sac.
I note the new 2028 version will also feature the famous roll-top “umbrella” roof that on older models stretched right down to the rear bumper.
Let’s hope it’s a bit more robust than the original one. My pal’s old dear had a beautiful black and maroon 2CV Charleston back in the olden days and we used to razz around the Derbyshire Dales in it as bored teenagers.
As soon as you hit 50mph, the flimsy roof would flap about like God himself was trying to rip it off.
The rickety ride quickly became known as “the hairdryer”.
WHY DID WE FAIL KIND RJ?
HOW heartbreaking that from TV’s brilliant , has killed himself.
It goes without saying that no one should be at 34.
We don’t know exactly what drove him to do it but I can’t help feeling troubled that a world that benefitted so much from campaigning somehow managed to lose him.
One of his last films, which he promoted just a fortnight ago on the in , was called Talking To Strangers.
A poignant reminder that, thanks to the brilliant work of numerous charities, when you feel that life is too much, there is always someone out there to talk to.
