Identity Crisis

I'm infuriated. As an Englishman, I am incensed. What is the source, I hear you cry, of my angst and chagrin? Well, you know, I was hoping you might ask.

Chocolate.

Not just ANY chocolate.

Cadbury's chocolate.

The best $&%£&$**! chocolate in the known world.



Today, dear reader, if you are not aware, the shareholders of Cadbury's, who can smell fat piles of cash a mile away, voted overwhelmingly to sell our beloved Cadbury's to a bunch of poxy YANKS!!!!

No, surely not, that cannot be, I hear you cry in dismay. Not OUR Cadbury's, home of the Wispa, the Creme Egg and the (whispered in reverential hushed tones) Curlywurly??

Yes, and not just any bloody Americans either. F%$*&in KRAFT!!!! They of the processed cheese!

Yes, those bleedin' bloody corporate tosspots. The same f%$£ers who dismantled Terry's of York a few years ago. What is to become of British foods? Tetley tea is not British anymore. Neither is HP Sauce or Boddington's Bitter!! Ack! Gah! Choke! Cough! Splutter!

The list of British companies now owned by Johnny Foreigner is staggering! Rolls-Royce. Bentley. Jaguar. Hamley's toy store. Midland Bank. Oxo. The Body Shop, for God's sake? But Cadbury's? This is ridiculous.

Well all I can say is this. KEEP THE JOBS HERE IN THE UK. Don't do what you did to Terry's and shift production to Europe. And don't balls it up. Keep the Curlywurly and the Wispa. And even though Creme Eggs drip goo on your hand when you bite into them, keep those too. We have lost too much of our heritage to lose our beloved chocolates. If an Englishman can't get a decent bar of Cadbury's then what's he going to eat, eh? Hershey's? Not bloody likely. Dove? Pffff. Ghirardelli? Most English people probably can't pronounce it.

It's a conspiracy, you know. Like the Euro, like Wal-Mart owning Asda grocery stores,  it's all designed to make our country lose its identity, its Englishness. Next thing you know we'll be ordering hotdogs with the works and pastrami on rye from street corner vendors named Louie. Prince Charles'll cry when he's crowned and thank all those wonderful people who made it possible. Camilla will be saying 'Gee, this is so traditional' when distributing the Maundy money in her golf slacks. Coach Andy Flower of the England Cricket Team will be disputing umpire's decisions and yelling at him from 2 inches away while kicking dirt on him. And get thrown out of the game. Rugby teams will start to wear padding with giant shoulders and name themselves after near-extinct animals. Where will it all end?

At least I can take consolation from one fact. Y'know that mustard, that, er, French's that y'all like to slather on everything? That bright yellow crap mustard that you put on your stadium dogs and such? As American as apple pie, you might think. Who owns it?

Reckitt-Benckiser. An Anglo-German company. Makers also of Vanish, Lysol, Veet, Clearasil, Finish, Airwick, Woolite, and Mucinex.

I guess turnabout is fair play.