Firstly I have terrible news of one of our English slaves getting uppity and failing to treat his Scottish masters with the respect we undoubtedly deserve. I must say it is ace being Scottish these days. I rise at about 12 kick my English butler up the arse and demand he makes me breakfast. Around one I have my giro delivered by courier which I spend on booze and trinkets before calling up Gordon Brown and asking him to crack the whip a little harder and send me another cheque.
I usually go for a stroll about 2pm, pausing only to wipe my feet on a freshly slaughtered English tax payer to avoid getting the new golden paving stones dirty. I usually swan up to my local hospital and request my diamond and ruby encrusted personal suite of rooms where I recline to ease the terrible pressures that come from occupying and enslaving the neighbours. It is around this time that I max out my credit cards before sending them to a random address in England for full settlement. Poor old fair minded England -60 million souls quivering under the mighty force of 5 million devious layabouts.
UPDATE: It's worse than I thought. They're in some sort of morris-dancing frenzy and have petitioned the PM to 'get rid of Scotland'. One would have thought a campaign to free the English slaves would have been sufficient. Evidently not, I shall keep you posted on the progress of my physical elimination! Mind you the jokes are fucking hil-ar-ious.