On the Clarkson

A couple of week’s ago, I read an interview with Clarkson in Zoo (A quality publication, I might add). In it, he said that he wanted to hide in his Volvo until Bush left office, and that he wanted to be French, and that he wanted a ban on smoking.

All in all, not the sort of quality opinions that we like to hear from the motoring journo- turned- ‘personality’. So, that wasn’t very good.

But fear not. He’s back.

This evening I?m thinking of smacking the children. For fun. And then, when I go to bed tonight, after I?ve altered all the wiring in my kitchen and drunk two bottles of wine I?ll leave the outside lights on. And dream about the glimpse of G-string I saw in the office last week.

In other words, in a single day I will break 14 laws and seven social taboos that simply didn?t exist before Tony came along. And I shall do so with impunity because there?s no way in hell he can possibly enforce all his Big Ideas.

You know, if he took away the smacking children bit (‘cos I don’t have any) and added something about destroying gatsos and ID cards and punching Herr Blunkett, it’d pretty much be the kind of day I’d be happy to participate in…

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