Month: November 2026

Ryan is the kind of bloke
Who likes to big-up billionaires
While casting round for scapegoats
For the parlous state of his affairs
Himself a failed entrepreneur
His start-ups all had dodgy names
Set up, it seems, to make quick cash
Off moody compensation claims
So, when the far-right bandwagon
Hoved into view
I’ll have some of that, he thought
I’ll make a bob or two
And deal with the devil duly struck
With ladder, zip-tie, hired truck
He fixed to decorate the land
One lamppost at a time
With the cheapest union flags
That he could find online
His motley crew no strangers
To violent crime and Amazon Prime
His partner in this enterprise
New to work at height
Ran a sex doll business
Where you could rent one for the night
Who knows if it was Covid,
Latex fatigue, or rust
But nobody expressed surprise
When the company went bust
Tits-up, deflated, not much cop
These days he runs a tanning shop
While Ryan’s old firm, they report
Still awaits its day in court
Much like the man himself
For various offences
Now asking flag-flyers to fund
His own legal expenses
Like former comrade Tommo
Heels cooling on remand
Since they fell out on a French beach
Over chains of command
And master grifter Robinson
Who’ll never miss a chance
To part a racist from their dough
And he weren’t even in France
Instead, the king of fat jab fash
Is asking his fan base for cash
To spend while he’s in jail
For bullying the Daily Mail
Meanwhile, Ryan and his goons
Can’t get served in Gosport ‘Spoons
They must hate poppies he declares
Like Tim Martin really cares
While wearing one the scalpers sell
That doesn’t help the RBL
Announcing to the coppers on the door
That patriotic pouting should be law
And his little Raise the Colours Reich
Were exercising human rights
To walk into any pub they like
The absolute state of it, right?
Because Ryan is the type of bloke
Who likes to big-up billionaires
While casting round for scapegoats
For the parlous state of his affairs