Blunt reponse to a bigoted, elitist Labour tosser.

James Blunt  Instument verbally batters Labour MP(Image Source)

The singer James Blunt (yes I know what his name rhymes with) has hit back at Labour MP Chris Bryant, calling him a “classist gimp” and a “prejudiced wazzock” for comments suggesting that Blunt only made it in the music industry because he was from a privileged background. In the strongly worded letter, Blunt reveals how his upbringing actually worked against him in the industry, and how producers requested he adopt a regional accent.

In an interview with The Guardian, Bryant suggested Blunt had only been successfulk in the music business because he went to boarding school. By the same logic Bryant could have said to himself, I’m not going to criticize James Blunt, he used to be in the special forces, he’s so hard his farts could kill me.

Instead, the nasty, elitist, Labour shite continued to belittle the achievements of people who had the benefit of a kind of education no longer available in state schools, i.e. one where you learn stuff instead of being bombarded with politically correct propaganda for thirteen years.

Bryant continued his attack on ‘posh’ people by blaming them (instead of the politicized education system) for the number of retards churned out by state schools.

“I am delighted that Eddie Redmayne won [a Golden Globe for best actor], but we can’t just have a culture dominated by Eddie Redmayne and James Blunt and their ilk,” he said. “Where are the Albert Finneys and the Glenda Jacksons? They came through a meritocratic system.”

Hmmm, another leftie who should think before opening his mouth. Abolition of selective education has been a Labour sacred cow for years but Albert Finney (Salford Grammar) and Glenda Jackson (West Kirby County Grammar, Wirral Merseyside) both benefitted from the evil elitist grammar schools that gave so many people the kind of leg up in life that just isn’t available from the comprehensive propaganda factories.

but there were plenty of very talented and successful people emerged from the secondary Modern school system, getting their qualifications through further education after leaving full time schooling. People mature at different rates, excel in different ways and have different education needs.

So Bryant should be aware there are no Albert Finneys or Glenda Jacksons coming through because the dumbed down, one-size-fits-all system drags the brightest down to the level of the mediocre … And yes I did, an elite, private Grammar school.

To his great credit James Blunt bashed off a very funny letter to smug bastard Bryant. Here it is in full:

Here is his letter in full:

Dear Chris Bryant MP,

You classist gimp. I happened to go to a boarding school. No one helped me at boarding school to get into the music business. I bought my first guitar with money I saved from holiday jobs (sandwich packing!). I was taught the only four chords I know by a friend. No one at school had ANY knowledge or contacts in the music business, and I was expected to become a soldier or a lawyer or perhaps a stockbroker. So alien was it, that people laughed at the idea of me going into the music business, and certainly no one was of any use.

In the army, again, people thought it was a mad idea. None of them knew anyone in the business either.

And when I left the army, going against everyone’s advice, EVERYONE I met in the British music industry told me there was no way it would work for me because I was too posh. One record company even asked if I could speak in a different accent. (I told them I could try Russian).

Every step of the way, my background has been AGAINST me succeeding in the music business. And when I have managed to break through, I was STILL scoffed at for being too posh for the industry.

And then you come along, looking for votes, telling working class people that posh people like me don’t deserve it, and that we must redress the balance. But it is your populist, envy-based, vote-hunting ideas which make our country crap, far more than me and my shit songs, and my plummy accent.

I got signed in America, where they don’t give a stuff about, or even understand what you mean by me and “my ilk”, you prejudiced wazzock, and I worked my arse off. What you teach is the politics of jealousy. Rather than celebrating success and figuring out how we can all exploit it further as the Americans do, you instead talk about how we can hobble that success and “level the playing field”. Perhaps what you’ve failed to realise is that the only head-start my school gave me in the music business, where the VAST majority of people are NOT from boarding school, is to tell me that I should aim high. Perhaps it protected me from your kind of narrow-minded, self-defeating, lead-us-to-a-dead-end, remove-the-‘G’-from-‘GB’ thinking, which is to look at others’ success and say, “it’s not fair.”

Up yours,

James Cucking Funt

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The Boggart Guide To Dating Posh Girls

The Oxford guide to dating posh girls was meant to be a light-hearted guide to help working-class boys woo posh birds but inevitably it has caused the politically correct thought polce to kick off about misogyny.

Cherwell, the 92-year old student newspaper published the six-point guide on the ‘challenge’ of courting classmates from privileged backgrounds. The artice has now been withdrawn on grounds that it might be considered sexist by the kind of fat ugly lezzas nobody would want to date anyway feminist students and staff.

Sadly the offending article only offers advice to young men from middle and working class homes who have gained entry to Oxford. What about the rest of us. We need no tips on catching them of course, posh birds are always gagging for a bit of rough. No, what northern lads need help with is training up posh totty to be proper girlfriends.

One piece of good advice the author, Manchester born Tom Beardsworth advises cunt love struck swains to be sensitive if their posh inamoratas travel north. He’s right, posh birds can be traumatised by the sound of a Lancashire or Yorkshire accent, are far too delicate to digest a meal of pie and peas and need to be warned that they must pack a fencing mask because the sound of a sloane ranger accent is certain to get it’s owner glassed in the snug of the Fettler’s Arms where you a obliged to take her on your hot date.

She also needs to be warned that the phrase often assumed to refer to “Fur coat and nee knickers” does not refer to somebody who places too much value on appearances but is the standard dress code for any femal travelling north of a line drawn from the Humber to the Mersey. Southern girls simply cannot cope with the kind of winds that blow in from the arctic.

Your posh totty should also be aware that in the north at any time beween early August and mid May the doggy position is obligatory for ‘congress’ as it is the only position that enables the man to have sex while drinking his can of Special Brew, eating chips from a plate balanced on her back and watching football on tele over her shoulder.

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Social mobility and posh boy syndrome

Nick Clegg said in a speech today “We have to shake off the outdated, snobbish attitudes of class that are cramping our society and hobbling our economy”

He then announced that as part of its education reforms the government is to publish an annual “snapshot” of social mobility, by measuring information such as educational achievement, elegibility for free school meals and babies’ birth weights. Quite what he means by including the last two I could not say unless of course he is complaining that it would be much easier for a bright kid on free school meals to move a couple of classes up the social ladder ladder than, say, his own or David Cameron’s kids.

Clegg said being able to advance at work and in learning was a “vital ingredient” of the UK’s economic success. “Wasted talent was a “crime” which hurt society,” he added. What a pity then his Lib Dem colleagues will start wailing and gnashing their teeth at any suggestion that to restore the kind of social mobility we had in the 1950s and 60s we must bring back grammar schools and selective education.

(Note to lefties and bleeding hearts: Don’t even think about commenting if you intend to tell me how unfair selection is. What is really unfair is the “progressive” ideal of keping kinds in education until they are 18 and then turning them out into the world semi literate, innumerate and lacking social skills but with heads full of multiculturalism and gener awareness whatever that is.)

Strangely Clegg did not mention the harm done to society when privately educated posh boys whose dear old Dads are stockprokers, bankers or wallpaper barons are keeping ordinary working class kids out of the top jobs.

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Exclusive: Pebbles Wants To Move

You will all have had your memories refreshed regarding SuBo of Britain’s got an X Factor, as her debut album has gone straight to number one with the highest number of pre-sales ever recorded by Amazon.

What happens if, when the punters get their copy, they don’t like it? Do they send it back and then the record is expunged from the annals of both the music industry and Amazon?
Just wondering.

But I digress from today’s ground-breaking report. Well not quite cos the story was in one of the Screaming Redtops during the week, but not as reported by our specialist feline correspondent, Hamish Ratcatcher, and also not featuring comments direct from the cat’s mouth.

According to SuBo, despite her second bout of new found fame, and a makeover, and some digitally enhanced photography by the looks of things, making her look much more genteel shall we say, than the image that prompted the nation’s tabloids to dub her The Hairy Angel, she will not be moving out of her council house in Blackburn, West Lothian.

But why not girl?
Sheena Easton was a wee Scottish lassie with a good voice, she got on a programme that was sort of like a fore-runner of BGTXF, something with Esther Rantzen I think, it was a long time ago, cut a record which went into the top 10, helped, obviously, by the publicity from the prog and then upped sticks to live in luxury, warmth and eternal sunshine out on the west coast of the U S of A. Surely that would be better than a reasonably cool and probably quite damp abode in darkest West Lothian?

Here’s for why, Subo says Pebbles the cat would hate to live somewhere posh. Has she asked Pebbles the cat we wondered, and despatched Hamish Ratcatcher off to the land of the skirling wilt to get the true story from Pebbles his/herself.

HR: Good afternoon Pebbles, it’s great to catch up with you again. Last time we met you were enjoying life in the Priory, but you have returned to Scotland with Su, your owner.

Peb: Returned to Scotland with mah owner, mah arse, ah were catnapped. Ah had a nice little thing goin’ down there, y’know what ahm sayin’?
Ah was living in the lap o’ luxury, smoked salmon, clotted cream, manicured gardens – the feline equivalent of Andrex that is, soil turned every day all loose and fine, bliss, y’know what ahm sayin’?
Even the vermin were top notch, well spoken, flea free and wormless.
And then ah was catnapped! Jus’ strolling along the corridor when one of they nursey type people scoops me up, puts me in a box and the next thing ah know ah’m on the next train back tae Scotland.

Still ah have to say, the old girl is looking a lot better since ah’ve been back, ah think she was letting hersel go a bit, y’kow what ahm sayin’? Ah had to fight my way through the empty gin bottles to get tae the back door, y’know what ahm sayin’?

HR: Indeed, Pebs. Now Ms Boyle says she won’t be moving out because you would hate to live somewhere posh…

Peb: Ah she’s a bit batty sometimes! Ah nivver said ah wouldnae want tae live somewhere posh.
Ah’ve got these brochures here, seems there’s some property in Dubai that’s goin’ a bit cheaper.
Mind ah’m not quite sure about the cuisine, is that where they eat sheep’s eyeballs, d’ya know? Ah can eat mice eyeballs cos you just eat up all the head like but ah don’t know if ah could cope with just eyeballs.
But ah have heard caviar is very nice, ah wouldn’t mind trying some of that, y’know what ahm sayin’?

An’ it would be nice to have a bit more room too, more space tae ourselves see. Ah know she’s supposed to be good at singin’ but ah think ah could give her a few tips, if only she’d ask. That Jedward person, ah liked him, ah thought he sung beautifully, ah would a let him sit on a back fence and serenade the local totty with me anytime, ah would.

See Jedward, he’s got the right idea, he won’t be hanging about in wherever it was, he’ll be off mixing with the stars, chauffeured limousines and sauteed langostines, champagne for breakfast, especially at Tiffany’s.

In fact if the old bat refuses to move ah may very well get in touch with that Jedward, even if he has got two heads.

HR Well thank you Pebbles. Hopefully we’ll be hearing from you again.

Meanwhile, back to the blog,

Hamish Ratcatcher, Boggartblog in Blackburn, West Lothian.