tobacco power

So it’s one thing to arrange for the death of thousands of unknown foreigners far away, another to challenge the hard men in your own back yard, the kind who use mobile phones while they’re driving as if the iron will and adamantine fist of Labour was as a genteel belch and a toy poodle’s turd, who hunt foxes as if the rule of Parliament was implemented by school crossing wardens, and who now want you to share their smoke, down your throat, and fuck you, tosser bar worker.
Yes, Smiling Tony's penchant for short brutal men with a big pull with the military or the Mafia or the smoking rubber boys has let us down again.