Fish and chips is one of those foods in the UK that you should not fuck around with. One of the key parts of its appeal - and mythology - is the sheer simplicity of the dish. That’s not good enough for that prick Blumenthal. It’s that simple that it’s incredibly easy to fuck up/Americanise.

With the obligatory solitary sprig of parsley!  (God, I’m peckish now and it’s not even quarter past six in the morning...)

Oh really. Please, do tell generations of Brits why our chippy-chips are worse. I’m sure we have acres of knowledge to learn from the country that can’t even cook bacon properly.  The floor’s all yours.

But it’s so delicious and juicy and moist. Much like that corpse.

Just move to France. Fuck knows you’ll get better coffee/healthcare/cheese/men/sex there.  

Please. I live near a care home for the elderly and soon-to-depart-this-mortal-coil. I’ve got a ready supply of easily confused/easily slain elderly people just wandering around. (It’s always fun when I borrow Mr Vinegar’s laser pointer and shine it in the windows. The screams are most entertaining.)

Fuck 10%.  Make it 100%, you grasping pustules.  Plus, it’s as ugly as sin (so no doubt we’ll see one of those Kardashian strumpets waddling around in one)

Nope, that’s what the elderly are for.  That and you can re-use their hides as footwear when the winter comes...

Well, in that case you save the fat child (if you’re American, chances are you’ll be “blessed” with two!!!) - the skinny one’s only good for using the bones for gnawing on whilst the chubster’s a good source of fat to render to make candles. Oh, and fat children make excellent stock, according to my grandmother.  

You always choose to save the non-limpy child.  A limping child’ll just hold you back.  

Ordinary people who aren’t the genetic result of their mother loving their grandpappy too much?  Get out.

Because he’s a fat fucking gimp-cunt and wants to disguise his ballooning mid-section as much as possible?

Posting this, because no doubt there’ll be some thick twat in the comments thinking they know how to pronounce Worcestershire better than an actual Brit (oh, there’s always one)...

What the fuck is a JoJo Siwa and how do you exterminate it?

God’s sake.  You’d be awful at picking which of your children has to live and the other to cop it.  *glare*

I wonder if a tuba plays whenever Kevin’s let out of his cage and he’s free to wander...*evil stare*

They’re all Jezebels. Even that bloody mother of theirs. In fact, just fuck ‘em all off to the Colonies and be done with it.

Binged on Tales Of The City - all the way from series one to the new Netflix series. Several life lessons that I previously thought my gayling self had come up with by itself were actually learned from the books and the series (my top lesson? Never stand close to a cliff-top when a villain is angrily monologuing). Was…

*fetches the tiniest violin in the world*