Written by Skoob1999
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Topics: English, Wimpy, macho

Tuesday, 17 January 2012

image for Englishmen Losing Their Macho Image And Turning Into Effeminate Wimps
Oi! Are You Lookin' At My Angel Cakes You Cahnt?

The popular global image of Englishmen being shaven headed beer swilling brutes, shirtless in sub-zero temperatures, snarling, shouting a lot, and making rude remarks accompanied by obscene gestures to passing ladies, fighting in lumps, and having knee tremblers in pub car parks has taken something of a knock.

A recent survey, conducted by the Office Of Damned Lies And Statistics actually reveals that Englishmen appear to be evolving into effeminate wimpy types, with an ever increasing emphasis on their feminine sides.

And the Institue of Cock And Gayness Obsessives also reports that Englishmen's cocks are becoming redundant, owing to lack of use, except in gay ways. Allegedly. And as if to add insult to injury, it seems that the average English penis is currently the size of a toothpick.

On a good day.

It seems that traditional English macho tribalism, such as the long distant football wars between Millwall and West Ham, and Man United and Liverpool, have now become a thing of the past. These days, rival football fans are more likely to be observed in wine bars, drinking mineral water, and exchanging Facebook details than knocking seven shades of shite out of each other.

Tragically, it seems that even traditional macho foodstuffs, such as pies, vindaloos, cod and chips, pie n mash and kebabs with lashings of chilli sauce are being forsaken by formerly macho Englishmen, in favour of cream cakes and Angel Delight. And wafer thin mints.

The upshot of all this, combined with stratospheric increases in pink sock sales, have led to millions of English women fleeing the country in search of real men. Consequently, the Holyhead to Dublin ferry line is becoming so oversubscribed that the shipping operator has had to order twenty new ferry ships from a shipyard in South Korea.

Speaking from the dockside at Holyhead, comely English housewife, Kay Parker told reporters:

"I'm going to Ireland to find a real man. Life just hasn't been the same since my husband, Eddie, started getting a bit girly. He went right off sex, and his willie started shrinking. When he signed up for ballet classes, that was the final straw. I'm off. Enough is enough. I remember when he used to say that if he was a joiner he'd screw me to the bed, but sadly those days are long gone. He's much more interested in dress design and flower arranging these days. They do say that Irishmen populated half of the world, so that's the place for me! I'm looking forward to getting my hips knocked about with typical Celtic vigour. It's worth the ferry fare."

But why Ireland?

"Frenchmen smell of garlic," Parker said. "The Spaniards are smarmy, the Italians can't ever seem to make their minds up about anything, the Germans are always pissed, and the Americans are too obsessed with willies for my liking. So it's Dublin for me. At one point, I did consider going to Dorking in Surrey, because I heard they've got some proper studs there. But it seems that they're all spoken for, and I've no chance with Alf Starling, so, Dublin it is. Wish me luck."

More as we get it.

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The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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