2002 part 2
It always takes about three hours travelling
in London before you find someone who’s English.
Newsreaders have suddenly developed accents.
The Divine Comedy never get the acclaim they deserve.
If you weigh yourself before and after eating a three pound steak, you never
put on an ounce.
Cows aren’t doing the splits on the news anymore.
People in soap operas don’t hit themselves on the hand with a hammer
and jump about yelling sweet fuckin Jesus!, like I do.
Nobody plays conkers anymore.
The pupils in Grange Hill don’t have acne like in the seventies.
Banzai on E4, possibly the craziest show in the world, check it out if you’ve
got Sky digital.
Everybody in the US celebrates St Patrick’s day and claim to be 'Oirish'.
That gobshite that killed someone, cut the body into pieces, put them in the
back of his car and had a crash which the police were called to deal with.
Anne Robinson looks like she’s just licked piss from a nettle.
“Where there’s blame, there’s a claim!”, Fuck Off!
There’s been very few lunatic American school kids shooting class mates
with weapons taken from the gun cupboard.
English cupboards containing old monopoly games with pieces missing, broken
china piss-pots, rusty tins of 1974 condensed milk and about twenty knitting
patterns for minging, antwacky Oliver Hardy’s and chunky knit Kuala Lumpurs.
Home made rhyming slang.
Credit card companies suddenly stopped sending applications after the Christmas
rush.
Dawn French, “It’s not Terry’s, it’s mine!”, like
we couldn’t guess.
Daniella Westbrook looking like a cross between a pug &Joan Collins.
Trevor MacDonald looking like one of the jazz musician uncles off the Cosby
Show.
Talentless mingers trying to become famous, they’re everywhere!