Albion and their lumpen ilk have been transformed, from the elementary sub-amoeba found in the sediments of the primordial stew, to puddle-dwelling lungfish-type creatures as yet unknown to science. They are but sticky, peanut-studded turds squished between the feculent bum cheeks of Birmingham and the Black Country, dangling precariously from frazzled arse hair, awaiting their eventual dispatch into their natural habitat, Satan's eternal lavatory. They are the gnarled calluses on the arthritic wanking hand of the Devil's idiot half-brother. They give the sputum-chomping subterranean rat people of the Dark Ages a bad name and, whatever the score, they will always occupy the slippery rung at the bottom of the evolutionary ladder. Yes, they've certainly gone up in the world.
