The hideous and execrable Jeremy Clarkson begins his motoring column in this weekend's Oz with a comparison between human males and deer.
Yes, it's the usual story about showing off (y)our testosterone level with horns and/or cars -- in his case usually ones no one can afford -- and in this particular case an Audi (who only make girls' cars anyway).
I mean, for ferk's sake, they don't even make a ute.
How frigging boring.
We don't have horns, he tells us, sounding like Bertrand Russell exemplifying the analytic proposition after several pints of crème de menthe and a bad night with someone else's wife.
Guess what we have instead?
Last line of his first para: "And if you start waving that around over a game of darts in the pub, no good will come of it".
JC (may he one day be crucified) is obviously from the wrong class.
I always suspected so.
My cousin, Filippo Trovatore, moved to the allegedly united kingdom in 1975 and, although he lives in somewhere called Bootle, he seems to have a handle on the Brit class thing.
He sent me this from a comedian who lives nearby, thus disproving Clarkson's Postulate:
Sledge
