By Jack Browne, aged 38, with a one-way ticket to Dubai
BRITAIN ain’t what it used to be, mate. You can’t get a GP appointment, the bin collections are fortnightly and you can’t get a decent job without being ‘fired’ for ‘fraudulent expenses’.
It’s the third world. You can’t say anything now, especially about those small boats on the front pages every day which nobody’s allowed to discuss. So I’ve got no choice but to abandon the country I love and go somewhere that believes in free speech. Dubai.
They bloody love immigrants there, white ones, and are proper welcoming. And they expect everyone to integrate and speak the local language, English. But English with an American accent, which is better.
It’s not that I can’t make it in Poole. It’s just that it’s become impossible for anyone with two GCSEs, six months work experience in Greggs and a light criminal record to get anywhere because this country’s against aspirational, ambitious people.
In Dubai they won’t care about my unspent conviction. They’ll see an enterprising businessman who doesn’t let a few silly laws stand in the way of success, like Man City haven’t.
People say I should stay and try to make my home country better. But I’ve got a better idea: pissing off. I’m showing traditional British resilience by moving somewhere with air conditioning, tax advantages and indentured servitude. Somewhere with values.
In Dubai everyone has a Rolex and a Louis Vuitton handbag and you don’t need to worry about criminals snatching them, until I get there. And yes it’s a junior role but I’ll work my way up.
Yeah, goodbye Britain and hello paradise. Nobody’s even coming to the airport to see me off. This country.
