Working away from home at the moment, and travelling across the country on World Cup final day, I was forced by the railway timetable to watch the match in a pub in a provincial town centre, somewhere in Middle England … where I should have been really enjoying the later stages of the match after 3 of my best bets of the whole tournament all came in at once: I’d punted on 0-0, on the draw and on Germany to win in extra time or on penalties. Get paid, Nige!
However my enjoyment of this clean sweep was more than spoilt by a bloke sitting down nearby in an openly fascist T-shirt for a pub meal with his partner. The usual body-building white-supremacist type you see in this sort of offensive garment … a t-shirt which if you google the slogan is available by mail-order from fascist outlets all round Europe (they’re even advertising free postage during “white summer”). Sorry to post the offending iconography here, but “know your enemy” and all that…
You don’t often get a chance to challenge a dumbbell-pumping fascist dickhead when he’s not hanging round with a bunch of equally dangerous-looking meat-heads, or where you know he’s unlikely to attack you physically in front of witnesses. So trust me, he was well and truly challenged there tonight. His partner must have felt very uncomfortable too, and oh dear I spoilt your meal did I? Shouldn’t come as much surprise when you’re having dinner with such an openly fascist twat. I eventually got thrown out of the pub (where they told me of course that the bloke is “a regular, who never causes any trouble”), but at least I’d timed it so things came to a head after the final whistle, and at least the staff and fellow customers there are no longer in any doubt about the racism and fascism of the offending garment and the dickhead who wears it.
Because It's Much More Important Than That 