I am a bitter, hate-filled old man. There are very few people and things that I don't hate.
Josie Cunningham: Oh my God; why do the tabloids keep giving that ugly lump of gristle and wasted organs the publicity that she's so desperate for? They're actually feeding her and inspiring her to come up with more and more abhorrent ideas to get attention and make people hate her even more. She really is a vile, nasty little grub, and the sooner she is condemned to obscurity the better.
George Osborne: Posh wanker. Is there, anywhere in the world, a face that just cries out to be punched more than his? Every time I see him I get a kind of Tourette's; I can't watch him without a stream of abuse pouring out of me. He's fucking useless. He said the country's finances would definitely be fixed by the end of this Parliament. Now he's saying it will be fixed by the end of the next Parliament. If he's allowed to hold that position again he will be saying at the end of the next Parliament that it will be fixed at the end of the Parliament after that. The man is a septic anus and should be placed on a large, rusty spike, and people could pay £1 to punch him in the face. The finances would be fixed within a week. We'd be able to pay off the Third World's debt within a month. Twat.
TV adverts: Why do they try to be funny or clever? They're all just stupid. Oak Furniture Land is one particularly annoying arse boil. As are the Iceland ads with Peter Andre. Why is he even doing those ads? Who is he? He had one really crap hit about a hundred years ago; then he shagged a pointless, annoying slag for a few years. So, what makes this utter non-entity relevant? Why must we be subjected to his desperate, plank-worthy face when we're trying to watch the latest vacuous, insipid pap being thrown at us by a media employed by the government to keep us docile?
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