"The summer has begun and with it comes the underclass mating season in all its glory: shirts off, car windows down, obnoxious music blaring across peaceful gardens, cheap alcohol and no regard for anyone other than themselves. The underclass brats will be up until midnight causing havoc in the street, while whichever ‘uncle’ is impregnating their mother gives them their first taste of strong lager at 5 years old.
On Monday, back at school the kids will tired and listless, while acres of disgusting pink flesh gets put on display like some tribal ritual. It must be time to subject the underclass to some kind of curfew so that decent, working people can enjoy the nice weather without the grunting and shouting that passes for communication amongst this sub-species.
They aren’t human in the real sense of the word, and until someone finds a use for them (drug testing? cancer research? a sterilisation programme?) then they should be kept locked up out of the way during those hours where working people need rest and relaxation. They can come out during week days, and spend my tax money in their pubs if they must, but I don’t want to see or her from them in the evenings or at weekends."
Hear hear fellow griper, encore.