this weeks fashion parade

It was Summer in Dublin.
And all through the city centre, members of the "Black Jackets" Muslim crime gang were on parade.
Slouching down Grafton Street.
Monitoring police movements on O'Connell Street.
Holding meetings at their office in the front tables at the Kylemore cafe in view of The Spire landmark, the same Kylemore cafe where they maintain a presence throughout the day seven days a week and from where they can reach any of their foot soldiers or enforcers or distributors or whatever the Arab word for scum is, either side of the river in double quick time.
But today the Black Jackets Muslim crime gang looked different.
They looked sunnier.
Nay, nay and thrice nay.
It was more than that.
Today the Black Jackets were a veritable riot of colour.
Like a pastureland of country flowers in full bloom.
I'd never seen anything like it.
The reason was this.
The Black Jackets had removed their black leather jackets.
Instead they were wearing a variegated, indeed hilarious, assortment of anoraks, duffle coats, cheap shirts, and worn cotton jumpers.
Nothing in fashion mind.
But they'd definitely moved from the year 1957 to sometime around early 1961.
And there wasn't a black leather jacket in sight.
In fact one of the gang was actually wearing a red jacket.
It looked very dashing.
From now on we'll have to call him Little Red Riding Hood.
So there it is.
For the first time in five years, the Muslim street thugs known as the Black Jackets were today each and every one of them without a black leather jacket.
Which tells us a couple of important things.
Firstly, they do own other items of clothing.
Secondly, the bastards can read.