There are three things I think everyone should do if they want to become a well-rounded adult: work retail, wait tables, and play team sports. One reason for the latter is that I hate poor sports be they winners or losers. The only thing worse than a sore loser is a sore winner and that is why Nigel Farage is malaka of the week.

Nigel Farage has been the leader of the UKIP (United Kingdom Independence Party) off and on for the last decade. UKIP is a right-wing anti-EU anti-immigrant party, which has been making gains in recent years. Farage is one of the reasons. He has cultivated a jovial “cheeky chappy that you’d love to have a pint with” persona. He’s another in a long line of fake men of the people having made his fortune as a commodity broker. Oddly enough for a Europhobe, Farage has been a MEP (member of European Parliament) since 1999.

Farage has let his cheeky chappy mask slip since the Brexit vote. Yesterday at the European Parliament he ripped it off and went full metal malaka. I’ll leave it to the Guardian’s Marina Hyde to describe his triumphalist dick waving:

Farage has been building up to this moment his entire political life, as he tells everyone at every single opportunity. In which case, how is it humanly possible that his speech to the European parliament today could be so artless, so crass, a scarcely refined version of some England fans’ infamous recent chant: “Fuck off Europe, we voted out”? To couch it in the sort of imbecilic historical inaccuracy which is the only language Farage understands: this speech was so bad that they’re now quits with us for saving them in the second world war.

You may disagree with this reading of the war; Nigel would regard it as hugely overcomplicated. This, he repeated once more, was a victory against “big politics”. “Virtually none of you”, he bellowed at the MEPs, “have ever done a job in your lives.”

Watching him was like watching the live abortion of Churchill’s oratorial legacy. As the latter’s grandson Nicholas Soames observed: “Appalling ghastly performance by that dreadful cad Farage in the European parliament. #hownottoinfluence.” Agreed. There is soft power, and then there is politics as erectile dysfunction.

Indeed, it is becoming increasingly difficult not to speculate as to the psychological underpinnings of the Farage condition. “When I came here 17 years ago,” he shouted, failing to hide his nervous elation, “you all laughed at me. Well I have to say: you’re not laughing now, are you?” He made it, you losers! He got out. He’s in the big leagues now. He’s the guy who just turned up to his school reunion in a white limo with two dead-eyed escorts on his arm.

Above all, the performance offered a reminder that Farage makes everything in which he is involved a race to the bottom. The opposite of a Midas, he may as well be nicknamed Brownfinger. His excruciatingly aggressive display eventually drew boos from the chamber. “Ladies and gentlemen, I understand you’re emotional,” urged the assembly president. “But you’re acting like Ukip.”

Small, petty, bitter, and vindictive are among the words that come to mind. The man has realized his “dream” and still feels the need to bully, browbeat, and insult those who dare disagree with him. Farage not only spiked the ball, he stuck it up his opponent’s collective asses. Nigel Farage is the ultimate sore winner and that’s why he’s malaka of the week.