Did someone waste money on that Red Copper Pan as hawked by the beady eyed grandma of Satanic evil herself?

Self-respect? With that fucking cheap dye-job she’s got? I’ve seen more subtle bleaching on a twink’s anus.

It was delicious. I wish she’d been a bit more vicious, to be honest.

I always thought one of my American-born friends was crazy for turning down a job in the States to remain here in the UK - it was crap like this. She pointed out to me that having her wee girl here in the UK was nothing like in the States, but completely without worry for her. It’s not entirely free for non-UK…

I once tried to explain the difference in taste between Hershey and Cadbury’s but had to settle for music.

Agree. God fucking help them when their rancid wombspawn enter the real world.

Both her and John are utterly adorable. But...God help you if you come for her.

Love the whole “you’re black - just like us - how dare you ask these sort of questions!” crap.

“American Freedom Distillery”...

Yes, but Jessie later had drowning-fish-sex in a Vegas swimming pool with Kyle McWhatsit (who had an impressive arse-double) - all tastefully lit by neon palm trees. You shut your yapper about Jessie!

Oh, fuck that with a hefty pole. Next time, I recommend heating up a batch of oil and have it ready to chuck at ‘em.

Dunno, I’ve always pictured Watson and I riding into battle on armour-plated tigers, hollering and smiting our foes with items of a sharp and pointy nature...

I remember asking my friend’s (admittedly terrifying) Chinese grandmother how she made perfect rice.

So, basically he revels in being a dumb fuck who designs clothing that looks like it would be best suited to the set of a low-budget dystopian horror film? Fuck off, Kanye.

Oh, do be quiet. No one likes a troll.

There are bigger concerns in my country right now than the wedding between a minor royal and a society climber: the Windrush deportations are truly horrific and need to told far and wide.

I’m with you on the cake aspect, as long as we’re talking about the recent craze for excessive amounts of frosting. I like to bake as a hobby and I often take treats in for that pack of ravenous twats I call “my team” but I draw the line (murderously so) at frosting. I do ice cakes - my gingerbread gets a lovingly…

I can’t tell you how utterly and ridiculously happy this makes me!

No. Get out. Stay out. *squirts with water pistol filled with cat widdle*

There’s a little corner of my soul - and that of a lot of kids who grew up in the late 1980s in the UK - that’ll forever adore this song to infinity and back and all I can say is: do not cover this. Ever.