Carry On Up The Poxhole

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Greetings fellow patriots. Following the success of the first issue of The Poxhole, we’re back with some more highly original thoughts from anybody who’s anybody in the world of rabid, right-wing mischief-making.

Carry on up the Poxhole - more ripping satire from the Daily Distress

This week we’re opening up our platform to Peter Bitchings, a man who is so cancelled that he can barely get his ugly mug on the box anymore. Katie Bobbins, who, with the possible exception of Eva Braun’s corpse, is the sexiest thing that ever happened to the world of fascism. Visionary, mystic and Covid ambassador David Yikes. And, last but not least, the man who started our movement, expensively educated man-of-the-people Nigel Frottage!

Well, if that isn’t enough to keep all of you bulldogs and bullbitches entertained, I don’t know what is!

Remember folks, if it ain’t full of shit, it’s just pinko nonsense. Keep it real. Keep it BRITISH! Keep it Poxhole!

Why Do They Keep Cancelling Me? by Peter Bitchings

There’s a simple reason that the MSM won’t allow people like me to be on air for more than 24 hours per day and I’ll tell you what it is. They’re scared. Chicken-livered, trouser-fouling, yellow-bellied scared. It really is as simple as that. Scared that I will cast doubt on their liberal values, their fancy-schmancy democracy and their precious human-rights. They will do anything they can to silence this voice of reason.

Peter Bitchings - cancelled by everyone apart from The Poxhole News

Only the other day, I was on the Today programme discussing my lack of coverage when, with no warning whatsoever, they cut short the interview to make way for the eight o’clock news. Seen as a single incident, we could perhaps put it down to a mistake from a rookie editor. But it wasn’t an isolated incident.

As I made my way to the Sky TV studios to discuss the subject on their breakfast show, my taxi driver had a rather convenient fatal heart-attack. By the time that various paramedics, policemen and other state-sponsored busybodies were through asking me questions about the so-called incident and the resulting multiple vehicle pile-up, I was too late to make it onto the show. How very pleasing that must have been for our Communist overlords.

Upon my return to the BBC for a slot on The Daily Politics, Jo ‘Libtard’ Coburn informed me that the show had already finished and that they’d had to go ahead without me as the show is broadcast “live”. Do you really think that this would have happened in Andrew Neil’s day? Of course it wouldn’t! There would have been a quick call to Lord’s to make sure that the cricket over-ran and I’d have had my turn as the star guest when the show went out three hours later than planned.

After a spot of lunch, I did at least make it over to TalkBollocks in time for the Nick Lamborghini show. Nick is a fine bloke and a true patriot so I thought I’d be in for an easy ride. However, most of the callers seemed to take umbrage with me for criticising a fellow London cabbie when I complained about the Quisling that had sabotaged my journey to Sky. These are dark times indeed.

Having developed something of a headache, I had to withdraw from my later appointments at Channel 4, BBC News 24 and Radio 5 where I planned to make some highly telling points about my constant cancellation.

Than God for The Poxhole. Without it, I would have no platform whatsoever.

Please help The Daily Distress to provide an infinitely more factual alternative to The Daily Express by making your next Amazon purchase via this link. It helps us keep our content free and undictated by swivel-eyed lunatics.

Why I’m Choosing UKIP by Katie Bobbins

Ever since I wimped out of The Apprentice in 2007, my destiny has been clear. God clearly intends me to be the Prime Minister.

In many ways, of course, it’s rather an easy path from Z-list celebrity to the top job in the country but as with all things, there are sometimes difficult decisions to be made.

Katie Bobbins at 43
Katie Bobbins (Aged 43)

The one that I have been struggling with lately, is the question of which party I should lead to glory. Long gone are the simple times when one automatically joined the National Front if one wished to rid one’s country of “people” with an inappropriate skin-tone. There are just so many choices, now! What’s a girl to do?

The Conservatives, traditionally, were a little bit tame for my tastes but they’ve been making great progress on the deportation front and I do find that quite endearing. Sadly, it’s still a bit of an old boy’s network and I think I might find it difficult to climb that particular greasy pole Sorry Boris, I’ll have to pass on that one.

The BNP always had a rather appealing, if somewhat centrist, agenda but their popularity was somewhat dented by that fat chap who used to run them. He looked so frightful in a suit! Even my natural grace and elegance would struggle to put the party back on the map after the fashion-crime that was Nick Griffin!

I was briefly tempted by the Reform Party. Lozza Pox speaks an awful lot of sense when he’s not off his tits but, Dear God, he looks like he’s just escaped from a Japanese P.O.W. camp. How anybody of his tender years can look so shrivelled and ancient is quite beyond me.

The Brexit Party have some very sound values but let’s be honest here. The vast majority of their membership consists of the sort of people who bore everybody to death in the golf club bar and smell faintly of wee. It just wouldn’t be a great look for an “It” girl like me to be seen with such sorry, old, Telegraph-reading tosspots.

That’s why I’ll be leading the Monster Raving UKIPs to power at the next election. They have solid racist credentials, a well-established hedge fund and I do like rather good in purple, don’t I, boys?

daily distress UK satire humour
Katie Bobbins (Aged 46)

Why Katie is Wrong to Choose UKIP by David Yikes

As I famously explained to Terry Wogan many years ago, colours are important.

David Icke pointing at a giant flying reptile

Colours resonate with waves and stuff on the astral plane and that effects what happens here on Earth. Wear the right colours and you can happily deflect the attacks of giant reptiles – wear the wrong ones and they’ll clash with your shoes.

Turquoise is always the best colour to wear. My turquoise underpants are the only reason that I haven’t been shot on a grassy knoll by the CIA or the Tri-lateral Commission or somebody like that. If my pants were purple, I’d be long dead.

Sadly, there is no turquoise party but sky blue is the next best thing. Wearing sky blue is the only thing that keeps Coventry City from getting relegated every single season. It has powers of protection.

By opting for Monster Raving UKIP purple over the sky blue of the Brexit Party, Katie is moving out of phase with the wishes of the Universe. And, let’s be honest, it makes her look even bloody older than she does already. And that’s going some.

Brexit is Crap but at Least we Won by Nigel Frottage

In many ways, it’s good that nobody talks about Brexit any more. It wasn’t quite the roaring success that we hoped it would be.

Nigel exaggerates the size of his cock in The Poxhole News


When viewed in terms of the economy, industry, farming, fishing and all that boring stuff, I have to concede that it was a bit of a cock-up. Needless to say, that’s neither my fault nor yours. Had we got the Brexit we were asking for – the one where we got to nuke Paris – it would all have been highly worthwhile. But we didn’t. We just got the red tape, the economic devastation and the international humiliation that were the inevitable downside of the venture without getting any of the fun stuff. That’s the Tories for you, I’m afraid.

That doesn’t mean that we should be down in the dumps, though. The important thing is that we demanded something and we got it. We, the proud bitter-drinking, middle-aged, white men of Britain finally got our own way and we should celebrate that. For far too many years we have been ignored whenever we ask for simple little things like free hair-restorer or magic diet pills, so winning something was the whole point of the exercise. AND WE DID WIN!

Best of all, we’ve done what we really set out to do. We’ve pissed off the libtards! All those tedious experts, nay-sayers and negative ninnies that said it was doomed to failure are still jolly batey about it for some reason. Far from basking in the satisfaction that they were right, they’re just moaning on and on because they’ve lost their jobs and their taxes have gone through the roof. Will nothing put a smile on their miserable faces?

So, once more, I congratulate the readers of The Poxhole News on a job well done. VICTORY IS OURS!

Brexit is Sodding Awesome by a Government Spokesman

A SPONSORED ANNOUNCEMENT AT YOUR EXPENSE

Brexit has been an absolute triumph. Anything bad about it is imaginary. Nigel should shut his bloody face and pretend that it’s brilliant in line with government policy. He went to Dulwich College, not Eton, so he knows sod all about anything. So there!

It’s so wonderful that we’re going to have a festival to prove it.

Festival of Brexit