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Laurence Fox. The twat.

In LF's mind, for any carnival to be "genuinely inclusive" it must involve him having a stint of talking shite on his soapbox, otherwise that's prejudice that is.

It should be held in Oxford with the smouldering remnants of Laurence found in the middle of a bonfire of rainbow flags just before the first commercial break. At the halfway point Father Calvin, whilst blessing the carnival goers, should be ripped limb from limb a rabid pack of farage hounds.

Inspector Luther will do the investigating.
 
'As the laughter turns to tears

Half an hour can seem like years

Yearning for his dealer's call

Imagine, gentle peoples, one and all

How dull and drearsome be his fate

'twixt porn and chang our 'Lozza' waits

Alone, with but a wank to ease the pain

'twould take a very heart of stone not to laugh like a drain at the entitled twat'


(sorry, I lost the scansion in that last line - much as 'Lozza' loses his shit when he does his last line and his dealer's gone to bed)
 
The funniest part of all this is that with his very deliberate dialling back on the racism (presumably because he's scared of getting nicked), he's alienated half his fans on Twitter who are now giving him tons of shit for not being racist enough. That's the trouble with going fash for cash- once you've done it, if it turns out it wasn't quite the investment you thought it was you can't really go back without creating a whole new set of enemies.
 
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