A
volcanic hunk of gristle that tastes like a brick of processed cheese fed
through a chemical sludge pipe and inevitably burns the top of your mouth off,
which means you end up gingerly teasing little bits of it into your gob like
you were a porn-star trying to arouse the viewer with the sight of you eating a
big fat turd made out of grease.
Constant and pointless reminders that
the podcast is on a website, when you’ve just downloaded it from that website
‘You
can find this and other podcasts on the BBC website,’ the voice tells you.
‘Just go to bbc.co.uk.’
I know.
How the fuck else do you think I got this shitting podcast? Why do you have to
keep telling me, you pricks?
“I
want this to be the greenest government ever,” David Cameron once said - a guy
who spent the five years before being ‘elected’ (or, if we want to nitpick,
‘not being elected’) running around with a rhetorical watering-can trying to make the Tories look caring.
Here are just some of the resounding achievements
of Cameron’s leadership in the environmental sphere:
- In 2006 David flew to the
Arctic in order to take a photo of himself with a wolf
- Since getting elected
he’s made some really passionate speeches about green issues
- Maybe it wasn’t a
wolf, actually, but a husky
- Sometimes the podium
in his press conferences is a bit green
- Something with ears
and a snout, anyway. Yes. Probably a husky
- He did his best for sustainability by trying not to choose to sell off large tracts of Britain's forests, but failed
- His team of cleaners
and housekeepers only use green cleaning products
- His 320 hectare lawn’s quite green
The shitty doors
on Virgin Trains
Which never open when you want, meaning that
you have to punch your way through the entire train as if you had anger
management issues and were only taking the sodding train because you liked
beating up small electronic buttons.
Julian Lennon
In the plaza of the
new yuppiedrome ‘Liverpool One’ complex, a bit of sculpted public art bears an
inscription quoting the son of the famous Beatle. ‘Dad once said to me that
should he pass away,’ it says, ‘if there was some way of letting me know he was
going to be okay… The message would come to me in the form of a white feather.’
‘Then… When I was on tour in Australia,’ it continues, ‘I was presented with a
white feather by an Aboriginal tribal elder.’
So there you are: the mystical insights of the oldest continuous
civilization on earth are utilized to speak to a poshboy millionaire touring his shitty vanity project around a desert.
