The Country’s Full

It’s a touchy subject, I know, but it’s true. Our dear little country, with its houses and rental properties standing empty at extortionate, unaffordable prices; with its one percenters who own an apartment in London and a condo in the Bahamas and a cottage in the Cotswolds that they stay at one weekend a year contributing virtually nothing to struggling rural economies; with more Tesco Expresses and Subways than affordable council housing; that country, is full.

I have a solution. A final solution, you might call it. Well, final for the next twenty years or so. It’s controversial, and some might be offended by it, but so be it.

Stop having fucking kids. Everyone. We are good for kids for the foreseeable future. Just have a break for a generation.


They want your houses and your jobs… and they’re prepared to play the long game.

Any gaps we have can be plugged with people from other countries. They come over here as fully functioning adults, ready to serve the economy. They’re not whining, grasping, crying, sticky burdens who expect us to feed, clothe and educate them for the next eighteen years (and with the housing market as it is, lets face it, it’s more like thirty). They pay their way.

You might be thinking, but babies are ok. They’re just us, only smaller. Oh, right! That’s what they want you to think. Maybe the occasional one of them means it with all this “I love you mummy” and “I’ll take care of you when you’re old” bullshit, but 99.9% of them are cold, calculating bastards. They’re just sitting around, using your electricity, eating your food, waiting around for you to drop dead so they can have all your stuff. That’s the kind of life-stealing pricks we’re dealing with here. Pretending not to understand you when you say “Don’t touch Mummy’s phone”, when you know they absolutely do, gurgling and gabbling instead of speaking proper English, there’s no end to the liberties these arseholes take.

It might take a while, but we can make children aware they are not welcome in our country. Every time you see a pregnant woman, run up to her and scream at her belly: “The country’s full! Go back where you came from! Stop dividing, you worthless bag of cells!” She’ll likely thank you for it, what with the country being already full to capacity. If a woman is walking around with a toddler, you must help her. She cannot reinsert the blighter on her own. And once you’ve helped her get it back in there, her belly juices will dissolve it. That’s just science. One by one, we can claw our livelihoods back from the tyranny of these tit-suckers. The country is full after all.


“Imagine no more babies… It’s easy if you try!” John Lennon would’ve been proud.

Do the right thing, do the British thing. STOP BABIES. The country’s full.

Did I mention? The country’s full. No space for anyone. Not even the tiniest, cutest baby. Not even that adorable one with the headband up there. None. Full.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s