Everything is shite and it’s all Jeremy Clarkson’s fault

Unless you’ve been inside all day, recovering from a weekend long binge then you might have noticed that it’s kind of warm outside. Well by warm I mean enough to justify not wearing a jacket which could be anything from 7 degrees to a trillion. I don’t know if that’s the case with the rest of the UK, maybe it’s just another shortcoming of the smiths commission, bloody Tories, not standing by their referendum promises.

  

Well no matter how hot it is up here though, it can’t compare to how heated the tension between Jeremy Clarkson and the BBC, 2015’s David vs Golliath if David was a bit of a closet racist with shit hair. To put a long story in a small reasonably priced brief, Jeremy Clarkson punched a producer for not bringing him a steak and offering him cold meat instead.

Don’t head over to Wikipedia just yet to see if Jeremy Clarkson had been replaced by a 15 year old football casual with a short temper though I can’t blame you for thinking so. The controversial presenter has been sacked for God knows how long though a decade ban would still be too soon. He has the cheek to call this a wrongful dismissal.

Last time I checked you were pretty much guaranteed to get sacked over punching someone over some fucking cold meat.

Recommendations for what to do with Jeremy Clarkson go as follows: make him watch Nash Grier vines on an endless loop Clockwork Orange Style, uses the amount of shit that comes out of mouth every time he talks to help farmers tend to their fields and subsequently bury him in an avalanche of potatoes.

Or, yeno, give a casually racist, violent presenter the chance to host another show to rival BBC’s Countryfile. Joke or not, I give it a week until Clarkson has a mental breakdown and goes rampant around Britain, punching every cow in sight for not being born medium rare.

Would still be more entertaining than fucking Top Gear.

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