The current Brexit ruckus, with the anti-EU press going off the end of the pier in no style at all after Parliament once more showed itself to be sovereign, has included most of the political class in its cast list. Except one: Nigel “Thirsty” Farage, former UKIP Oberscheissenführer, has hardly got a mention, except to whine about, er, not getting a mention. But today the Dacre doggies at the Daily Mail have come to his rescue.
What's f***ing untrue about it? F***ing well sue me if you think you're f***ing hard enough, c***
Getting out her largest onion, Rebecca Hardy tells readers “'I'm 53, separated and skint': Nigel Farage reveals the 'price he has paid for Brexit' claiming the referendum triumph has left him 'unable to walk down the street alone' in case he's attacked”, going on to tell “Nigel Farage has a few choice words for the treacherous Tory Remainers who pulled the rug from under our EU negotiators this week, betraying 17.4 million Brexit voters. ‘Bloody awful people. My contempt for career politicians knows no bounds’”.
Career politicians like the people who stand to receive a £70k-plus annual pension from the European Parliament in 2019, like, er, Nigel Farage, then. And it’s him, not them, who has betrayed the voters’ trust, treating the EP like a combination of cash machine, Gentlemens’ club, and after-expensed-lunch sleep provider.
Then come the lies. “I can’t walk down the street in London on my own” tells Mr Thirsty, although he managed to fetch up at a local rugby club the other weekend by himself, now he can’t get anyone else to pick up his security tab. There was more: “I have thought about the States. Life is easier over there, but I am very English”. Bullshit. He’s not going to live in the USA because he is now an FBI “person of interest”.
Squeaky sob story finger up the bum time
The Mail even contributes whoppers of its own: “the sheer nastiness of many diehard Remainers since the British people voted to leave Europe is a disgrace”. Like Tory MP Anna Soubry being the subject of death threats, you mean? That’s a straight-A F*** Off. In fact, make that a whole series of whoppers: “Farage has … had the bolts on his car wheel loosened”. No he hasn’t. That’s a now-debunked pack of lies (see HERE).
And the lies keep coming: “Even more appallingly, Farage’s family are being targeted, too”. No citation - the Mail takes a known liar on trust. Still, on to the merely misleading: “he doesn’t seem OK. Today, he is red-eyed and his voice is raspy”. Because he’s hung over. Again. Although he’s allowed to claim “I don’t drink that much any more”. Tell that to the people at the rugby club who saw you downing a series of afternoon pints, Nige.
Still, there is a little honesty over Farage’s affairs: “He dismissed rumours of affairs as ‘crackers’ until a kiss-and-tell from his one-time adviser Annabelle Fuller was published”. He was not Ms Fuller’s only Kipper conquest, I’m told. Then it’s back to the bare-faced dishonesty: “There’s no money in politics, particularly doing it the way I’ve done it - 20 years of spending more than you earn … I have big expenses - lots of kids to pay for and things like that”. Sell one of those homes you didn’t tell the Mail about, then.
It should be no surprise that putting pathological liar Farage together with what Alastair Campbell called “the Dacre lie machine” leads to some serious dishonesty. The jaw-dropping part is that someone at Northcliffe House thinks nobody will notice. They have.