Múhaha.....Snilld frá Charlie Brooker
I've instinctively hated the Tories since birth. If there was an election tomorrow, and the only two choices were the Nazis or the Tories, I'd vote Tory with an extremely heavy heart. In descending order of vehemence, my objections to the Tory species stem from a) everything they do, b) everything they say, c) everything they stand for, d) how they look, e) their stupid names and f) the noises I imagine they make in bed. I once overheard two posh people - almost certainly Tories - having sex in a hotel room. It was grim. The woman kept saying, "Fuck me, Gerald," in a cut-glass accent, which was funny, but Gerald himself soon wiped the grin off my face with his grunting, which wasn't really grunting at all, but instead consisted of the words "oh" and "ah" crisply orated aloud, like Sir Laurence Olivier reading dialogue off a card at an early rehearsal. I didn't stick around long enough to hear the climax, but I imagine the words "gosh", "crumbs", and "crikey" probably put in an appearance.
Charlie er skemmtilegasti grumpy penninn sem ég hef komist í kynni við. Endalaust kaldhæðinn og endalaust neikvæður. Refreshingly dismal, one might say.
p.s. Ætlaði að fara að blogga um pólitík, en varð óglatt um leið og ég fór að hugsa um hana. Viðurstyggileg tík þessi pólitík.