I love immigrants

I love my new Polish neighbours, thank you Labour for giving me the chance to appreciate new people and their customs. I love the way they use the fire escape at the back of their second floor rented flat as the main entrance, shouting and clumping on the metal steps at all hours of the day and night, drunk or sober. I love the way they cogregate on the fire escape in gangs and billow smoke into my windows, I can't afford to smoke and gave it up years ago so I should welcome the opportunity to sit in my window and inhale and get some for free and who can object to the loud music and barbecues every sunny weekend and if they all choose to urinate in the passageway that is the right of way to my back garden, well, this is a democracy, isn't it? Oh thank you Labour. I love the way they talk in loud drunken voices all day and night and if they keep me awake that is surely my fault for sleeping in my bedroom and if I can't sit in my own back yard in the sun without being stared at by a gang of surly drunken foreigners on a tiny fire escape balcony overhead then that must be my fault too for owning such a large house next to four tiny flats. The sooner Labour take my house into public ownership and turn it into another four tiny flats to house more Polish immigrants the better things will be for the economy and the NHS and the glorious Labour Party for they surely must need the cheap labour.