Jeremy Clarkson

[glasfryn]

the mans a 100% gobshite.
and should be run over with a fecking steamroller.






twice.

 

[tedebear]

the mans a 100% gobshite.
and should be run over with a fecking steamroller.






twice.

Do you own a caravan or horse box?

 

[Richard Whiteley]

Tries far too hard to be Mr. Un-PC

An unfunny Alan Partridge

 

[hans kraay fan club]

Maybe she IS fat.

Maybe she is, but whose fault would that be?

 

[Grendel]

Maybe she is, but whose fault would that be?

Hers, for eating too many cream cakes and sticky buns.

 

[Gully]

I used to think that he was pretty funny, I loved his slightly sarcastic and direct form of humour, however the joke has worn a bit thin and I just wish he would go away. If we are just talking about Top Gear here I wish they would replace him with the German lass who took the Jag and white van around the Nurburgring.

 

[hans kraay fan club]

Hers, for eating too many cream cakes and sticky buns.

Sorry, but if we are talking the kind of sports day he describes, then we are talking reasonably young kids - not teenagers.

If your kid is fat, you are not doing a great job as a parent. I know that is rather sweeping, but it is a real pet hate of mine - fat people with fat kids. You just look and think "what hope for that poor fat little fucker?"

 

[London Irish]

Here's what IMO is the best article in that book.

"My eldest daughter is not sleek. In fact, to be brutally honest she has the aerodynamic properties of a bungalow and the coordination of an American bombing raid.
She puts a huge effort into running. Her arms and legs flail around like the Flying Scotsman's pistons but despite this you need a theodolite to ascertain that she is actually moving forwards. She's a bit of a duffer at the school's sports day.
Luckily, the school tries to operate a strict "no competition" rule. The game starts, the children exert energy and then the game finishes. This doesn't work terribly well with the 50-metre running race but often there are never any winners and consequently there are never any losers.
That's the theory, but round the edge of the sport's ground there's a communal picnic for parents. I had been asked to bring along a potato salad, which sounds simple enough but oh no. My potato salad was going to be creamier and made with higher-quality potatoes than anyone elses potato salad. This is why I got up a 4:30 a.m. to make it.
Nobody was going to scoop my potato salad quietly into the bushes. Nobody was going to make joke retching noises behind my back. I was out there to win, to crush the competition like beetles.
My daughter did not understand. You told me it didnt matter if I come last in the race, she said.
It doesnt, I replied
So why, she pressed on, are you trying to win a competition for potato salads when there isnt one?
There bloody well was. And a competition for pasta salads, too. And quiche. But all of these paled alongside the brownie wars.
Obviously I chose the ones made by my wife but pretty soon I was surrounded by a gaggle of women. Try mine. It was just like the old days when schools had teams and competition and everyone crowded round shouting: Pick me, pick me. I was never picked. I was always left at the back like the spring onion in the bottom of the fridge: Oh do we have to have Clarkson, sir? Hes useless.
I was therefore determined that no brownie should be left out, but this wasnt enough. I was being pushed to decide, publicly, whose was the best: my wifes with the creamy centre; the ones made with chocolate that had been specially imported from America; or the ones with the pecans floating in the middle. They were all lovely, I said, sticking to the spirit of the day.
What spirit? Whats the point of protecting children from the horror of failure on the sports pitch when their parents are all giving one another Chinese burns on the touchline? My brownies are better than yours. Say it! Say it!
I spoke last night to a man who bunged one of the teachers 50 quid at his daughters sports day, saying: look, if its close for the first and second, you know what to do.
The following year his daughter wrote to him saying: Dear Dad, please let me come where I come. Dont try to bribe anyone. He did as asked and she came second. But he wasnt finished. He took the cup she won to the engravers and had it inscribed with a big 1st.
Its not as if children dont understand the concept of losing. Mine regularly have their stomachs blown open by aliens or their heads kicked in by a Russian agent. Of course, you could be the good parents and turn up at sports day with a bowl of tinned prunes. You could force your children to put the PlayStation away and stick to Monopoly, which has no winners or losers because nobody in the whole human history has ever had the patience to finish a game.
Think about it. If your child has no understanding of failure, how will he cope when he walks around the back of the bike sheds one day to find his girlfriend in a passionate embrace with Miggins Major? Therell be a bloodbath.
I dont want my children to be unhappy. Ever. It broke my heart when, as predicted Emily was last in her running race, thumping across the line like a buffalo. I couldnt bear to watch her fighting back the tears of humiliation.
But what do you do? Well, why not teach them that losing is better tan winning. Certainly, its impossible to make someone laugh if youve come home first. So anyway, I got the deal, won the lottery and woke up in bed the next day with Cameron Diaz and Cladia Schiffer. Thats nice but its not funny.
Further more, arranging your face when you win is impossible. You have to look proud but magnanimous and thats hard even for Dustin Hoffman. Michael Schumacher has been winning since he was eight and he still cant pull it off.
All the funniest people in life are abject and total failures. Theres no such thing as a funny supermodel or successful businessman who causes your sides to split every time he opens his mouth.
This is presumably why I felt a certain sense of pride as we trudged home from the sports day picnic. Everyone else was carrying empty bowls that had been licked clean. And me? Well my bowel was still full of uneaten potato."

Ah, Clarkson - some meandering prose about non-competitive sport (currently 22nd on the Daily Mail list of top 100 phobias) delivered with clod-hopping metaphors ("like the Flying Scotsman's pistons") and twee 1950s middle-class allusions ("passionate embrace with Miggins Major").

It's so f***ing dull, it's untrue. There are conservative writers who do make you laugh (O'Rourke, some of the Oldie crowd) but Clarkson really is, ironically enough, pedestrian.

 

[Gerbil]

Ah, Clarkson - some meandering prose about non-competitive sport (currently 22nd on the Daily Mail list of top 100 phobias) delivered with clod-hopping metaphors ("like the Flying Scotsman's pistons") and twee 1950s middle-class allusions ("passionate embrace with Miggins Major").

It's so f***ing dull, it's untrue. There are conservative writers who do make you laugh (O'Rourke, some of the Oldie crowd) but Clarkson really is, ironically enough, pedestrian.

f***ing hell if HE'S dull where does that leave us with you?

 

[Bakesy]

f***ing hell if HE'S dull where does that leave us with you?

 

[Burgess_Hill_Seagull]

I think he's quite funny on Top Gear but what annoys me about him is that he thinks he's god and that he can never be wrong about anything. And for that I don't really like him at all.

 

[Bakesy]

I think he's quite funny on Top Gear but what annoys me about him is that he thinks he's god and that he can never be wrong about anything. And for that I don't really like him at all.

OI NEWBIE........Sensible posts aren't allowed on here.










Welcome BTW.

 

[Easy 10]

what annoys me about him is that he thinks he's god and that he can never be wrong about anything. And for that I don't really like him at all.

Hmmm...sounds like someone else we all know, can't quite place my finger on it though.

 

[dougdeep]

Well I like him.

 

[Richard Whiteley]

but Clarkson really is, ironically enough, pedestrian.

verr good, although I thought that article wasn't bad.

He's still a twat though.

 

[Braders]

reading "the world according to" at the moment having just finished " i know you got soul"

excellent, truly brilliant.

 

[*Gullsworth*]

The bloke is a self-rightious, bigotted twerpy tit-nob.

Ps. I dont like him

I agree but he also makes me laugh