Incontinent with euronation
by Graham Smith

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The euphoria which has accompanied the launch of Mickey Mouse money is frightening.

“Join us,” said Bank of France governor Jean-Claude Trichet. Now listen very carefully Monsieur, I will say this only once, we fought for and liberated your country over half a century ago. And before some half wit jumps up to remind me the war is over let me remind you it is not. We should keep our pound and our national identity.

Why should we be ruled by a bunch of Euronuts and their money? They have so far given us standardised Brussel sprouts, straight banana proposals and a uniform sized condom has been discussed.

A girl of three was charged 10 per cent extra when she bought a tube of Smarties at Newcastle airport with the new euro and some barmpot in a German bierkeller tried charging the equivalent for a pint of beer. I well remember when decimalisation arrived in the UK. I had a half-hour tussle in a shop over the conversion price of a Cornish pasty. The assistant was adamant she was right, I eventually offered to marry her parents and the upshot was I left with a free pasty, perforated eardrums and I never went in the shop again.

Mark my words it will all end in tears. It took them long enough to even name the currency and eventually settled on euros, which is Greek for urine. It will cause untold confusion, but the Government, and The Daily Mirror, tell us it will be wonderful for us all and we must join. They said the same about the Tufty Club and what happened to that?

As I said I’ve been suffering from this euronation since New Year’s Eve…excuse me I have to go to the bathroom.

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