It was the very respected Andrew Marr on his live Sunday morning programme. I saw that, knowing who Alex Jones was, and even I was surprised by what I saw, which seemed to be someone genuinely undergoing a psychotic episode, screaming, pointing, wild-eyed jabbering, cords in his neck bulging out, just seemingly…
Diabolik Returns
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I've never been on Alex Jones' programme either. I've wasted my life!!!!
'But who's your favorite collie dog…..called Lassie?'
Wup.
Why?
In that case I won't Romaine for long….
That was all the tomato puree.
Even Chinese Democracy? Because that was truly worth waiting, what was it, thirty-seven years for?
I can see them in years to come, sitting side by side, talking to the court-appointed psychiatrist before sentancing.
Bet it slips down easily.
A sentence I guess you never thought you'd never have to type.
It's not as if he's just sitting there, on his own, in a state of ennui and despair, squirting tubes of chemical lube down his throat, and photographing mostly invisible pools of pseudo-spoog on his single, solitary plate. That would be weird.
A girlfriend and I once did something similar with a large tub of Belgian chocolate mousse. Halfway through I suddenly thought 'Jesus, I'm in the middle of a German porn flick,' and it somewhat took the edge off it…..
Diverts the attention from the plagiarism charges, I suppose.
'She joins a cast that includes Miles Teller…' Wow, the confidence that inspires.
That's no excuse!
He should go by the anagram of his name, Sweaty Ken.
Seeing Deadpool in about twelve hours time.
Brilliant.