Now I read a decent article today by Grace Dent in the newspaper. She’s a good writer. And the point of her feature was that we should really applaud that knobhead Jeremy Clarkson, for opening up about his ‘issues’ which led him to punch his production minion. She didn’t really buy his explanation but she admired the fact he was so in tune with his inner feelings. Ah, that sensitivity. So Jezzer.

Now what exactly were those issues? Well firstly he lost his mother last March. Having lost my own mum two years ago I can understand how distressing this can be, even for a mature man. I was more upset at my own mum’s funeral than I ever thought likely and my weepy delivery of her eulogy was truly undignified and so unworthy of her memory. But whilst I’ll carry the embarrassment of that performance with me forever and I think about her often,  I have to admit that a year after losing her, my upset, or grief as they used to call it, had long since subsided and I find it hard to imagine how someone as hard-nosed as Clarkson could claim after that length of time it was a still affecting his behaviour.

I mean how lovingly devoted is this guy? Hasn’t he been caught cheating on his long-suffering wife with numerous  young blonde production assistants (female) over the years? And this leads me to his second distressing issue; the break-up of his marriage (shock) last May. 11 months on and it’s still distressing him (really?), enough to act violently towards a junior colleague? Strange because I thought I read yesterday that he’d just returned from a loved-up holiday with his latest squeeze so his mood can’t be that dreadful you’d guess.

But let’s move on and turn to that 3rd issue, the fear that a lump on his tongue might have been cancerous, presumably brought on by his heavy smoking. Because we all know Jezzer is the naughtiest boy in the school and won’t listen to being told that he should give up the cigarettes. Despite all the evidence of the last 40 years showing that smoking is a killer. And whilst the thought of having cancer is understandably worrying, I can assure him that being diagnosed with the bloody disease and having to deal with the surgery and consequent treatments is a damn sight worse. If you’re lucky it costs you a year of your life to recover (although the thought and anxiousness of it returning is constant); but if you’re unlucky, it costs you your life of course.

Fortunately for Clarkson he doesn’t have to face any of this because the lump was benign (ie the one on his tongue, not the man himself; he’s just be nasty). But here’s the thing I’m no saint but I don’t remember going through the cancer ordeal and feeling so down on my luck that I needed to smack an assistant in the mouth, necessitating hospital treatment.

So I don’t buy it either Jeremy. Excuses, excuses. He sounds like the guy who walked into the A&E with his dick caught in the vacuum cleaner hose explaining how he was just leaning over the switched-on machine when his dressing gown accidentally fell open and somehow the strength of the suction caused the nozzle to slip tight around his poor pecker.  Yeh and my name’s Dr O’Thatslikely. Why can’t Clarkson ever admit to doing something wrong with his sole excuse being that he’s a total prick? At least then you could respect the man’s honesty if not his actions and personality.

Anyway it doesn’t matter because at long last he’s been expelled again, this time by the BBC which has been just another school playground to him over all these years. At least I get the satisfaction of knowing that, as with that idiot Forsyth and douchebag Hall, my licence fee isn’t being squandered extravagantly anymore on another nasty individual.


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About Paul

Having decided on a change of life by moving home from the UK to Italy, this is the story and thoughts of a man on a personal journey from the Blackpool Tower to the Leaning Tower of Pisa, in search of la dolce vita. After several olive harvests he's now back in London but en route he shares his very personal perspectives on life.

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