O invitatie deschisa catre toti romanii si bulgarii: va rog veniti in Marea Britanie!

Ca cetatean britanic vreau sa lansez o invitatie deschisa catre toti romanii si bulgarii sa vina in Marea Britanie. Nu asteptati pana anul viitor cand veti fi liberi sa lucrati in orice slujba doriti. Rezervati-va biletul acum.

De ce? Deoarece vreau sa multumesc prietenilor nostri est-europeni pentru tot ce au facut pentru Marea Britanie.

Noua, britanicilor, ne merge rau. Suntem intr-o recesiune tripla. Rata somajului e inalta. Guvernul nostru isi intoarce ochii de la Europa. Economia noastra este dependenta de doua surse de creare a locurilor de munca, Olimpiada si Game of Thrones. Iar Jocurile Olimpice s-au terminat. Dar macar putem fi multumiti de romani si bulgari.

As a British citizen, I would like to launch an open invitation to all Romanians and Bulgarians to come to Britain.

Don’t wait until next year when you will be free to work in any job you want.

Book your ticket now.

Why? Because I would like to thank our east European friends for all the great things they have done for Britain.

Us Brits have it bad. We are in a triple-dip recession. Unemployment is high. Our Government is torn apart over Europe. Our economy is dependent on two sources of job creation – the Olympics and Game of Thrones. And the Olympics are over!

But at least we can be thankful for Romanians and Bulgarians.

We need you to work in our factories, schools, hospitals and ports. How do I know this? Because nearly everyone employing Romanians and Bulgarians in Britain are British companies, British citizens and the British state. If they didn’t want Romanians and Bulgarians as their employees, they could stop hiring them. No one is forcing you to steal our jobs. We want our own jobs to be stolen.

But what about those awful Romanian and Bulgarian beggars on the streets of our great cities? Us Brits must want them. How do I know? Because we keep giving them money. We love buying the Big Issue from Bulgarians. It’s something fun to do in our lunch hour. If we stopped throwing coins at them, they wouldn’t be here.

What about those poor prostitutes? Well – it’s us who need the comfort of an east European whore for twenty minutes to relieve our marital distress. If we didn’t want a Romanian girl, we would simply say ‘nu, multumesc, nu vreau sex cu tine. Vreau o englezoaica’. We would stick with the English ladies of the night – when it comes to sexual exploitation and an indirect support of human trafficking, we would buy British!

We must be thankful for Romanians and Bulgarians who come to our country and cheat our generous welfare system to fund their luxury housing. These enterprising EU citizens reveal the mistakes that exist in our welfare system. Much as the CIA rewards hackers for showing the US Intelligence Agency where its security breaches exist, these ingenious tricksters teach us how we can improve our great social safety net.

Our universities need money. So our great and underfunded educational institutions travel on road-shows to your countries to solicit your richest students to invest their parents’ cash in a British education. In our country, your students can spend 10,000 Euro a term to learn how to drink ten pints of beer in two hours, put traffic cones on their head and vomit on our streets.

Our shops need your money. We need the sons and daughters of your billionaires who became rich from corrupt privatization deals to buy up our latest collections from Top Shop, Harvey Nichols and Selfridges. The offspring of the nomenklatura from Romania and Bulgaria can join their Chinese and Russian comrades in saving the British high street.

Don’t believe the British newspapers. We are not all racist. We are not all fat. Not all of us are working in a team of researchers. We love southeast Europeans. Especially your music. You have such a great sense of rhythm.

This anger that comes towards you from the cold northwest is a joke. You may have heard about our famous sense of humour. Where we often say the opposite of what we mean. We will call a beloved grandfather “you old fart”. We give our blessed Queen the working class nickname of “Brenda”. We pretend we hate the French.

That’s what our Government’s proposal for an advertising campaign to discourage you to come to Britain is.

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