If Angela Merkel had a retarded British cousin, she would sound exactly like the twit (or something like that with one vowel changed) running formerly-great Britistan.
"Islamic terrorism does not exist."Hey, thanks for clearing that mystery up too, you shit-headed ignoram-ass.
I never thought ordinary expletives in English could ever be found so wanting, but to describe anyone with their head shoved this far up their ass adequately would beggar the language of Shakespeare and Milton, even if we trolled the docks on the Thames or in Liverpool for helpful linguistic suggestions.
You've single-handedly probably sold more blood pressure medication there to Tories under NHS than HopeyDopey sold guns here in eight years of concentrated fucktardation.
Seriously, you'd have to feed your baby lead paint chips every meal, drop her on her pointy head daily until it went flat, and shake that baby until her eyes rolled like a doll's with every jiggle to begin to approach the level of pure, unmitigated c*ntish stupidity she manages to pack into just that brief minute and forty eight seconds of codswallop, claptrap, and fermented steer manure.
Thank a merciful universe we kicked your silly asses all the way back there in 1787, because for a dollar, countless Americans would happily go to 10 Downing Street just to have a go at slapping the stupid out of such an airheaded pratt. And you could owe them the dollar. The trouble is, it'd be a wasted trip, because all there can be in such an empty head is nothing but stupid, otherwise her skull would have sunken in from atmospheric pressure long ago.
Enjoy becoming Islam's bitch, and anybody who voted for such an irredeemable mound of pompous dung deserves to get her for prime minister, good and hard, until Big Ben is replaced by a minaret with loudspeakers for the muzzein.
The only problem with your right wing, you monstrous quisling, is that they haven't seen fit to drag you out by the hair and hang your head from Traitor's Gate. But I live in hope.
And when the temblor caused by Winston Churchill's body spinning ceaselessly at St. Martin's Church finally ceases, and one of your jackassical successors - should your embarrassment of a nation survive long enough for same - comes begging again for help to survive, we already gave, both in 1917 and 1941. You're on your own from here on out.
Unless your emissaries come with your stuffed head on a platter, humbly asking our pardon for the idiotic remarks of someone clearly out of her depth since first form, in which case for that, and the OED renaming the bowl in every watercloset the Theresa May in your honor, the answer will be a hearty and heartfelt suggestion that your entire festering nation attempt self-fornication. At least, the ones who survive growing up being serially raped by your Muzzie imports long enough to get to adulthood.
If President Trump had half the balls he should, he'd name Ann Coulter the permanent ambassador to your country, with instructions to hector you ceaselessly and publicly until she had successfully instigated another war, just so we could kick the door in, haul you out in the street, and give you the public spanking mum and dad obviously failed to do so many years ago, unless your own long-suffering people beat us to it. And if he were half as devious as he's accused of being, he'd be running guns and ammo by the ton to your right wing bootnecks.
Shut your festering gob, and stop embarrassing a once-great nation with the realization of the levels to which it has sunk.
You'll have to excuse me for now, PM Shitforbrains, I'm off to the Theresa May to box your Christmas present. Will that be one lump, or two?
And the next time some not-so-smart-bomb goes all Aloha Snackbar, and grinds a few sodding peasants into pate on the sidewalk, remember, loyal subjects of PM Retardia, Queen of Hearts, it's the fault of all those backwards people who insist Britain should be British. She only barely left off calling you all "a basket of Deplorables".
What a malodorous sack of pus to put in such a theoretically important position.
Your country is now a laughingstock, your history so much kindling, and your leader an embarrassment even to stupid people.