Apart from avocados which posh girls smash up for Instagram likes. Other than that, nothing.
Oh, and hummus. What else would people talk about when emphasising middle class status?
Oh, how about the kebab, which has been responsible for many a clubbers' vomit on the British high streets.
Otherwise, nothing else.
Oh yes, what about the Eastern European night bus drivers who get you home after drinking lager and vomiting kebabs.
Oh... how about the nurses and the doctors doing the night shift to treat the hooligans out fighting to get our country back?
Oh hang on, how about the Nigerian traffic warden who you hurl torrents of abuse to but are glad there is order in the roads and idiots can't just park anywhere. But definitely nothing else.
Oh, one more. How about Polish cleaners who give the squeezed middle classes a break by cleaning and looking after their kids so they can function?
But surely nothing else.
Another important one. Premier League football would be shit. More than now. But nothing else.
Oh yes, our TV screens would be useless without the Eurovision. That's it.
Oh, one more. How about when the supermarkets are shut early and you need to buy some late drinks and the 'official' taxi rank also delivers alcohol too by case. But I can't think of anything else.
Oh, just one little one. Affordable taxi drivers. That's it.
Oh, wait a minute. Life would be boring without email scams from Nigerian princes, they are entertaining. Ok, that's it.
Hang about. How about the Bollywood actors that Zac Goldsmith loves even though he can't name a single one? No more.
I know. How about all the magnificent tarmacking that people have enjoyed since the Irish? That's it.
Last one. How about the Japanese and Chinese relaxation practices? Posh women would have nothing to assert their position without doing hot yoga. Definitely that's it.
Wait a minute. How about a tennis champion to make us proud? Shut up, he is English unless he loses. No more.
Oh how about rhythm? Last one.
Oh... KFC, McDonalds. Period.
Oh. The gypsy women knocking on the door on Sunday morning to sharpen your knives. The Tories would have nothing to stab each others backs with.
Harry Potter. Technically British. No more.
Well. There is Spain, it takes a lot of our old people, lessening racism [cough, cough]. There can't be anymore, surely.
Ok. The carnival. Enough.
One last one. When our parents go to care homes, the immigrants who look after them. That has to be it.
Oh no. The illegal immigrants who clean the public toilets and other undesirables. That's it.
One last one. The people who brought you curry as our national dish. No more.
That's it. Our Grandfathers fought for this country! Oh with the help from the Kenyans, Gurkhas, Muslims, Polish and other countless people, who didn't even know what the war was about. But that's it.
Ok, one final. How about all the money poured into this country by the Chinese, Russians and Africans who come here to shop and educate their children in private schools, bringing prosperity to our country. That's it.
And this one. Telemarketers who give you a reason to be angry? No more.
So other than avocadoes, hummus, kebabs, bus drivers, nurses, doctors, traffic wardens, cleaners, childcare, football, Eurovision, taxi drivers, scam emails, Bollywood, paving, yoga, tennis, rhythm, KFC, McDonalds, back stabbing knives, less racism, carnival, clean toilets, curry, money, telemarketers, what have the immigrants ever done for us? Nothing.
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